Rebuilt
by Terrific Lunacy
Summary: {AU!} After society as we know it collapsed, humanity struggled for survival. Slowly a new society begins to establish. Groups led by lords battle for territory. Young Harry Potter has no interest in joining local politics, but when a new lord with unconventional ideas sees the potential in his unique talents, can Harry remain neutral? LV/HP
1. Chapter 1

**Summary:** _AU! After society as we know it collapsed, humanity struggled for survival. Slowly a new society begins to establish. Groups led by lords battle for territory. Young Harry Potter has no interest in joining local politics. But when a new lord with unconventional ideas sees the potential in his unique talents, can he remain neutral? Hp/Lv  
_

**Disclaimer: **_I do not own Harry Potter.  
_

**Warnings:** _This story will be **slash** in the future. If male/male relationships are not your cup of tea please leave now. However, it will probably take some time for the relationship to develop, so if that's the only reason you read you will be disappointed._

**Rated: _M _**_for the future and some cursing._

**_A/N: _**_This is a non-magic universe. However, several of Harry's inventions seemingly based on science would never work in our world. You could call it science-fiction or steampunk if you are familiar with that._

_._

* * *

**Chapter 1**

20 years ago society collapsed.

There was no other word for it; one day it was still there, barley being kept upright, the next day there was nothing.  
It was amazing really, that humans fought successfully against increasing natural disasters, climatic changes and the most vicious viruses, with a seemingly infinite amount of new innovations, techniques and ideas that allowed them to adapt ever so quickly to anything nature threw at them.

Until the hunger came. Until there were simply too many mouths to feed.  
And everyone started to concentrate on one task alone: find, steal, produce, share, _kill_ for food.  
The society that was so successful due to the specialisation of every human, was doomed the moment there was only one goal worth concentrating on.

Without the maintenance of basic public services and the production of medical drugs, chaos and diseases spread throughout the world, allowing only the luckiest ones to survive.  
What once was a normal pneumonia became a death sentence, and due to the lawless environment no one was safe; your neighbour for ten years might shoot you every second now if he saw you had a leaf of bread.

The incredible high number of individuals that humans spent the last few centuries on producing, was decimated to several thousand in only a year.  
That might have the survivors allowed to start over again, but once society was destroyed it could not be revived that easily, even though the cause of destruction – too many humans - was not a problem anymore.

After about 5 years of total anarchy and pure chaos, humans once again proved that – even though if it came down to it you only looked after yourself – they were in fact social creatures and began to form groups.

Completely random in the beginning, without any meaning further than social interaction and shelter, few years later they formed the core of the new society.  
Persons known as 'lords' began to arise, forming a group of selected people around them. Even though group dynamics was still an ever-changing process – new groups constantly being formed and disbanded, split into several smaller groups or merging with others – now the lords provided an unchanging centre, around which it all gravitated.

Strong groups did not automatically have more members. The ability of the lord to lead them and establish discipline was far more important. Strong lords had the power to conquer more and more territory from other, weaker groups, leading to more food and shelter and thus even more power.  
Of course raw physical power of the members was an important factor in these fights, but as the years passed, clever strategies, new weapons and alliances often were far more important.

When humanity finally settled down in this new system and started once again - _slowly_ - to bring up children, 10 years had passed.

Every child conceived during the first 10 years of chaos was abandoned and had no chance of surviving.  
The same counted for the little children before the collapse.  
When families died or parents were killed there was no one to look after the children. Any child that couldn't keep up with the adults had little chance to find food for himself, thus everyone that wasn't at least 10 years old before the collapse had almost no hope to survive.

The last decade before the collapse and the first after led to a roughly 20 years gap between the newly conceived children, in the new society known as _'first generations'_, and the fully grown-ups - _veterans_ - who survived the chaos, all now at least in their thirties.  
The gap between was known as _'lost generation_'; not cared for like the first generations and not sharing the memories of another world with the veterans, the new society had little use for them.  
It was amazing that even after all what humanity has been through, there always was a group of people who didn't belong.

Harry Potter was one of them.  
How he had survived was a mystery even to himself. He was one year old when society collapsed. He had no memory of his parents or anyone else, only his birth certificate somehow remained with him.

Now 21 years old, he was exactly in the middle of the lost generation. It did not help that he looked even younger. If he looked older, he could have pretended to belong to the veterans. As it was he was a rather small but elegant young man with a beautiful face, pitch black unruly hair and startling green eyes.

If he had a different personality, his looks would have provided him with enough to 'earn' his living among the veterans. He couldn't care less. Most of the time his face was covered with black coal dust, his delicate hands covered with blisters and small cuts and his too big but comfortable clothes covered in grease.

Remus called him an engineer. He said that was the term that was used for people who invented new stuff, exploring machines. Harry didn't argue since he _did_ built new gadgets but his passion was science. Chemistry especially. Building self explosives or nerve gases with a mixture of otherwise harmless chemicals fascinated him.  
He knew everything about science and technology that was ever written in a book, even though most of the things described there, he never saw in his life. Remus found it odd that of all people a lost generation with no memories or education of the old world was probably the best engineer that remained in the new world.

Whatever you wanted, Harry could build it. You wanted something to transport you over a wall? He built a package with airscrew worn on the back that could hold you in the air for 2 minutes. You wanted a new weapon to take out dozens of people without killing them? He built a gun that produced sonic waves that rendered everyone within 10 meters immobile.  
The things he built bordered on magic. And no matter who examined the gadgets afterwards no one could rebuilt them, too complex was the inner machinery.

That's why no one in the town bothered him. You didn't want to get on his bad side, the pen he was holding in this moment could be a deathly weapon for all you know.

.

* * *

.

Harry let out an annoyed sigh.  
He was searching for his newly invented knife. Well he didn't invent the knife, the customer wanted the knife to be unnoticeable, so Harry had mixed together a paint that adapted to the background like a chameleon.

'I should have waited with the application though', he thought, furious at himself. For the life of him he couldn't find the blasted thing that was now conveniently almost invisible.

Finding something in his workplace was a challenge by itself.

He lived and worked in one room that was more a storeroom than a house.  
The front had shelves who were organised with some space for the costumer and a sort of counter, but behind it was what Harry called 'organised chaos'.  
Hundreds of little pieces and half-finished inventions were piling up in shelves or lying on the floor, papers with scribbled notes on it over everything like a blanket.

On the other side of the hall was a bit cleared up space with a small kitchen, a table and a bed. The huge shelves between store and living space provided sufficient cover – and protection for if an outsider crossed the hall, he was likely to step on some explosive device.

Harry sighed again. He would have to buy a new knife and mix the paint again. The customer would not be happy about the delay.

Through the window he saw Remus Lupin walking hurriedly towards his shop. Remus was a veteran and one of the few people who visited Harry not for business.

He and his partner Sirius lived together in a close part of town. They didn't talk much about the past, but from what Harry gathered they were childhood friends. Two friends who went through the chaos together and both stayed alive was a very rare thing.  
Almost no one knew each other from before the collapse.

Harry liked the pair. They respected him and treated him like an equal not like some young weirdo who was just plain lucky to survive. They knew Harry's skill made him invaluable and it was his intelligence, not his luck that played the major role in his surviving.

Remus arrived in his shop. He came smiling towards Harry almost jumping with excitement.

"Hi Remus"

"Hi Harry, is it safe?' asked Remus grinning as he thought of the last time Sirius stepped into the shop and spent the next hour immobile suspended in the air by a force field before Harry finally returned home.

"As safe as it gets" he grinned back and Remus took some more cautious steps.

"Whats up? Need something?"

"No, not today. Have you heard the news?" asked Remus with barely contained excitement in his voice.

The question was unnecessary, Remus knew Harry didn't keep track on the local happenings.

"Nope. Is it good or bad?"

"Hmm well it could be both", Remus began, "you see there's this new group…"

"Remus how many times do I have to tell you im not interested?" sighed Harry exasperated.

Remus and Sirius were both members in the group 'phoenix', led by lord Dumbledore and since quite some time the strongest group in town.

They were as friendly as a group can be, allowing the smaller ones some territory and didn't mind nonmembers. It was the reason Harry stayed in London. It was one of the only places he'd heard where you don't have to be in a group.

Harry didn't like the idea of serving some lord, especially since as far as he could tell they only cared for themselves, manipulating people to join them by flattering them and making promises. Then after you joined, you never even saw the lord again and if you didn't fulfil your role or got injured they cast you away.

Harry was happy living on his own. He knew is inventions were often used for group fights but he never asked and he wasn't forced to choose a side in return. All in all he tried his best to stay neutral and not to get involved with group politics.

Remus and Sirius initially wanted Harry to join their group, since they saw his potential and knew he would make any group really strong with his quick mind and arsenal of unknown weapons.  
But after one short chat with lord Dumbledore – alias lord phoenix - he decided as much as he liked his two friends, he couldn't bring himself to swear his alliance to an old meddling man who pretended to be a friendly perfect grandfather, even though he ordered to kill a small group of 20 people just the night before because one of them violated some rule.

Harry knew you had to kill to survive, he wasn't stupid. But if you did so then you should say it straight out and not making it as if you had no other choice, as if it was for the greater good and everyone was happier now.

But even if he didn't like lord Dumbledore, he didn't leave town. There weren't many places where you could live if you weren't in a group. Some time ago the strong groups began to send out small scouting parties, searching in other towns for promising talents, recruiting everyone that wasn't already in a group.

When it became clear Harry wouldn't join the phoenix group, Remus and Sirius seemed to have set themselves the goal to find Harry another good group to stay. He appreciated that they cared, but every lord he met was just another uninteresting individual and Harry always wondered why in the world people would follow them.

The worst one so far had been lord Lockhart who, surrounded by women, had, in exchange for Harry's inventions, offered him he could teach him the pleasures of the flesh – surely an invaluable asset in live for Harry? Needless to say Harry left without another word and when met with Remus' and Sirius' inquiring eyes, simply told them Lockhart was very lucky to be alive.

Since then he refused to meet another lord.

"Come on Harry, at least let me finish!" whined Remus.

"Fine" grumbled Harry.

Oh the things he did for his friends!

"Sooo, there's this new group, well it isn't that new I heard, but they come from quite far away..."

"Wait, the whole group travels the land for scouting?" interrupted Harry slightly surprised.

That was rare. Usually the lord just send a little party to bring back the new recruits. And most groups gave up on scouting since everyone was in a group.  
Strong groups just waited for people to come to them, begging them for an invitation to join. The lord then tested the contestant and if he showed a promising talent – strong fighting skills, medical knowledge or other useful things - he took them in.

It also often happened that a contestant's skill was better than that of the member who currently held the position, and so the member got unceremoniously kicked out. If you wanted to stay in a strong group, you had to be the best at what you did.

Another reason Harry was reluctant to join. After all, what could he offer? 'Hello I'm good at building things?' Of course, Harry knew he would be a valuable asset, but most lords didn't think outside the most common talents and Harry's mind could only be used to the fullest if he was actually involved in the plans, so he could come up with the perfect gadgets. That however meant that a newbie like him was involved in the most important plans. Not to mention he was a lost generation.

"I heard they keep their base a secret."

"Nothing new there then" mused Harry.

A group either had his headquarters in a specific town or somewhere hidden on the land.

"No, no wait", said Remus hurriedly, "the lord himself is traveling I heard. With part of his group as protection of course, but he scouts himself."

"Hmm, so he doesn't mind to get his hands dirty with some decent work, huh?"

"Exactly!" grinned Remus "come on Harry, you always complain about how lords assemble the best talents without being strong themselves"

"Just because he travels doesn't mean he has any talent except manipulating" retorted Harry and began to sort through the counter. Maybe he had set the knife down here somewhere?

Remus looked a bit hurt. Harry winced. He hated to disappoint them damn it.

"So, do you know what he's like?" he asked and saw the hope returning in Remus eyes with Harry's interest.

"Well, I heard he has an amazingly strong group. There are rumours some members were lords themselves before they joined!"

"Must be one hell of a flattering bastard if he got them to join."

Remus shot him a disapproving look. "Lords are clever Harry, and very proud"

"Stuck-up is the word I'd use"

Remus ignored him. "If he is able to make lords join him as mere members, there must be something different about him!"

"He's even more stuck-up?" grinned Harry.

Frustrated Remus threw his hands in the air "Harry you _have_ to join a group somewhen..."

"Not if I can help it"

"Somewhen soon" said Remus serious. "Even lord Dumbledore begins to think it would be easier to only have phoenix in the town."

Harry snorted. "He's been thinking that for a long time Remus. I'm amazed he hasn't killed off the smaller groups yet."

Remus looked at him with a sad expression. They never discussed Dumbledore's politics because they knew they weren't on the same side.

"Sorry" murmured Harry.

"It's alright Harry I know it, I'm not stupid. But we care for you, we don't want you to get hurt. I would have recommended to leave town but where could you go? Please Harry we just want you to be safe. And the world isn't safe, especially if you have no one there to protect you! Could you not at least consider to meet this new lord?" Remus looked at him with puppy eyes. Damn him!

"I can protect myself" snapped Harry.

"I don't doubt that stupid! But there's more to life than sit around alone inventing new traps to keep out intruders!"

"Well I never knew another life!" shot Harry back.

"Why do you think we want to show it to you so desperately?" cried Remus.

It hurt to see him so sad. Harry sighed. "Look I'm just not a person who follows others. I just don't trust them enough like you do with Dumbledore."

Remus smiled sadly. "That's because everyone is stupid compared to you. No one trusts someone who is stupid in their eyes."

Harry couldn't help but return his smile. "Was that a compliment or an insult?"

"I heard this new lord is exceptional intelligent…" began Remus.

"Oh for Christs sake Remus! I've never met a person more stubborn than you!" laughed Harry.

"You should meet yourself then" retorted Remus grimly "I'm nothing compared to you."

"Fine whatever! You win! How do I meet this marvellous lord?" he asked just to make Remus stop nagging him.

Remus face lit up with excitement.

"I heard he holds something like a party in the local inn tonight. Apparently he'll invite anyone he wants in his group."

"There you go, maybe he won't even invite me" said Harry hopeful.

"I seriously doubt that. And if he doesn't then he's not clever at all and doesn't deserve our little Harry"

"I'm not that small!" protested Harry but Remus just laughed at him and walked to the door.

"Just promise me you'll go"

"If it makes you _that_ happy..."

"It does"

"Fine I promise." Remus beamed at him and walked out.

Harry turned away from the counter - still no sign of the knife - and wondered how he would get invited if the new group didn't even know him.

Oh well, if he didn't get an invitation all the better; he could use the evening to mix the new paint to make another knife.

At 10 o'clock in the evening he decided that he would indeed not get invited. He really didn't mind but he couldn't help but wonder why.

It wasn't unusual to scout members of other groups, hoping they would change their alliance, but nonmembers were far easier to get to join. And as far as Harry knew, he was one of the last nonmembers in town.  
But whatever, he had promised Remus to go _if_ he got invited, so he still would be able to keep his promise.

He closed the shop and went to bed.

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* * *

.

He awoke with a start. Something had exploded.

He heard violent cursing and screaming. At least 3 people were in his hall.

He got up quickly and headed for the commotion. He was armed but he didn't think they wanted to harm him. No one ever attacked him, who the hell were they?

Sure enough one man lie on the floor; his face twisted in pain, his left leg separated from his body, blood pooling from the wound. 3 others kneeled beside him, cursing.

"What the fuck was that?" yelled one.

"A small portable mine I'd say. But it shouldn't have been on the floor did he touch the shelves?" asked Harry cooly.

"Who are you? Did you put that there you bastard?! Just wait 'till I get my hands on you!" yelled another, his face an angry grimace.

The injured man was obviously their friend. Harry felt bad for the man - a cripple would not survive long.

"I suggest you wait with that until after he's been to a doctor" replied Harry calmly.

Damn, why couldn't they keep their hands to themselves! He hated it when someone got injured out of pure stupidity. They looked angry but more so desperate and the man wouldn't live if they didn't stop the blood flow soon.

He wasn't really concerned that they were going to hurt him. As far as he could tell no one wanted him dead, he was way more useful alive. And they hadn't even moved towards him,despite their threats.

Harry set down his flash gun in favour of pulling a few bandages out of one shelf. Nothing much but it was a start.

Just when he began to walk towards the injured man, someone grabbed him from behind and something was put over his head. Harry cursed and began to kick. He couldn't see anything and his flash gun was somewhere in the next shelf.

'How stupid can they be?' thought Harry furiously. They've seen he wanted to help them, what the hell could be more important than their friend?

"Harry Potter I assume?" came an even voice from behind "you're coming with us".  
The fourth man obviously didn't care for the injured man as the others did.

Harry wanted to tell them that their friend was going die if they didn't let him help, but something hit his head hard and he blacked out.

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* * *

_**A/N:** I know nothing has really happened yet but if you could drop a little thought on the basic idea that would be nice :)_  
_This is my first fanfiction ever so...please don't kill me?_


	2. Chapter 2

**_A/N:_**_ Thanks to everyone who took time to review, follow and favourite my very first story! :) Truth be told, I wanted to take my time with the updates, but because of you I couldn't stop thinking about the story. If I fail all my exams it is entirely your fault :P  
_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 2**

Remus was right, Harry decided. He _had_ a thick head.

When Harry woke up, his head throbbing as expected, it was clear he wasn't meant to be conscious – yet.

Howled over the shoulder of one of his kidnappers like some sac, they were still in the process of moving him. He could hear their footsteps against the plaster and it was a bit chilly. They must be outside, walking across the town to god knows where.  
Harry didn't stir, it was better when they didn't know he was already awake.

Carefully he analysed his situation. Injuries? Just a headache nothing serious. Attackers? At least 4 men, 5 if the injured counted. Weapons? None. 'Shit' Harry thought annoyed. What good is it to sell all his inventions but having none at his own disposal if the need arises? Destination? Unknown.

Bloody great, Remus will throw a fit for sure. He could already hear his friend: "If you were in group phoenix no one would dare to…" and so on. Sirius would stand next to him, nodding after every single one of Remus' words.  
Actually Sirius was the more energetic and talkative one, often interrupting people and getting carried away fast in the heat of discussions. But as soon as Remus opened his mouth, Sirius shut up and approved silently. Harry was only left to marvel at their relationship.

"We shouldn't have left him there!" exclaimed a voice to Harry's right.

Left? They _left_ their friend in _his_ workshop to bleed to death? What a mess.

"He would have died anyway, stop whining" ordered the man who was carrying Harry.

"But..!"

"I said stop! You want to burden the lord with a cripple?" his voice was cold and unforgiving.

"No but..."

"Good. Then I will not mention your questionable behaviour tonight"

"I did not…"

"...Follow your orders? Indeed."

"I did! We were ordered..."

"...To invite him. Not attack him and mess up his shop. What would have happened if the whole damn place exploded, eh? _He_ told you his shop was rumoured to be…explosive"

"He said to bring him by all means necessary! We did not mean to…"

"We're here" interrupted Harry's carrier abruptly.

The man's shoulder moved as he reached forward. Harry heard the sound of a door opening. Animated chatter, laughter and clatter of plates and glasses filled the room.

"There you are my lovely birds! Did you bring me my present?" screeched women. Her loud laughter sounded more than a bit insane.

"He's not yours to toy with Bellatrix"

"Oh surely a tiny bit? The little rat must have known he would be punished! Why else would he deliberately ignore the invitation? You wanted me to play a bit with you did you not, hmm?"

The last sentenced was whispered into Harry's ear. A bag was still wrapped around his head but he could hear her clearly.  
He must be in the inn Harry decided. But what were they talking about? It was not his damn fault if they didn't invite him.

The bag was ripped off his head and the man shoved him on the floor.

Harry stumbled by the force but found his balance quickly and tried to look around, but the woman grabbed his hair and pulled his face uncomfortably close to hers.

She had wild curly black hair and dark eyes, with thick eyebrows and full lips. Harry decided she would have been attractive, if she didn't look so utterly mad.  
She was breathing heavily, all the while grinning at Harry. The wild look in her eyes was more effective than Harry's bright red 'Danger!' sign in the front of his shop.

"Well dearie dear, do tell us why you didn't find us worthy of your time? Please go ahead, we are dying to know."

At this point the conversations in the room had stopped completely. Everyone was watching the spectacle.

"I did not get an invitation to this…social gathering. As much as I regret it, I can assure you. I heard they treated guests like kings here" replied Harry, sarcasm dripping from his voice.

The women cackled her disturbing laugh and pushed him a few steps more into the room, so that he was now standing directly in the middle of the inn.

He had been here before; when his friends decided he needed more 'social interaction'. After the chaos, most parts of the city were abandoned.  
Old Tom took a liking to the big inn and rebuilt it as well as possible. Everything looked a bit shabby but the bar, most tables and some rooms upstairs were still usable.  
Harry and Tom were friendly with each other. They weren't as close as Harry was with Remus and Sirius, but old Tom was like Harry not in any group.  
His pub was often used as neutral territory for negotiations, or just for a nice evening out since there wasn't really something else to do. Since Tom started brewing his own alcohol, the pub was well visited.

Harry looked at Tom. His eyes were worried but his expression blank; he had the policy not to get involved, like Harry.

"You have the gall to lie to me brat? That's not very nice my dear, did your parents not teach you respect? You have to answer the post you know. Yes, it's very important to always check your mailbox" she sang.

Post? Mailbox? 'Shit', Harry thought, expressions from the old world. He had heard them before but he didn't remember what they meant. Everything from before the collapse that was non-related to science was of no importance to Harry.

"I did not get your invitation" he repeated, "honestly".

She looked at him, her expression sobering a bit. Slightly confused she turned to his kidnappers and fixed them with a withering look.

"We did deliver the letter, I swear!" cried one horrified.

Harry recognized his voice; it was the man who was complaining about his friend being left to die.

"We checked when we came to get him, he had the letter!"

Bellatrix turned back to him triumphantly.

"Liar" she chirped "telling me dirty little lies, the rat."

"Look I don't even know what you mean by mailbox, let alone by post." Harry retorted annoyed.

Her eyes grew big "You _dare_ to..." she screeched but Harry would have none of it. "Yes damn it! I got kidnapped by your charming little friends, and my shop is a mess! Now _you_ dare to accuse me of ignoring something I never got…"

"We brought you post!"

"I told you, I haven't the slightest idea what you mean"

"That's impossible, everyone knows!"

"Well I'm not everyone!"

"But we put it in your mailbox..."

"I didn't know I have one"

"Every house has a mailbox! The small metal box in front of your house, stupid!"

"Could be a UFO for all I care"

"You stupid little…! One puts letters there"

"Why on earth would you waste paper for that?"

"It's an important invitation, we specially sent someone to every house"

"Why would you waste paper _and_ time? If you went past my house why didn't you just _tell_ me?" asked Harry truly astonished.

"How _dare_ you…"

"Bellatrix" interrupted a low voice.

Harry turned around. _Slowly_. Because the only reason why an already silent audience would hold their breath at the same moment, was if a truly fearsome person stepped in.

Wary green eyes met intense red.

The man was standing on the winded staircase that led upstairs.  
Impeccable dressed – who cared about their clothes nowadays? – he was leaning almost leisurely on the railing, fixing Harry with his gaze.  
Dark haired like Harry, but it was silky and framed his head without a single strand out of place. Handsome – not that Harry cared – and surprisingly young. Not a lost generation for sure, but he couldn't be much older than thirty.  
He must have gone through the chaos when he was still only a teenager; God alone knows what he must have done to survive, Harry certainly didn't want to know in detail.  
In this shabby inn and dirty, worn-down town, surrounded by men and women who probably haven't taken a bath for a week, his white clean complexion seemed out of this world.

To build new, not seldom lethal devices, Harry relied to 50 per cent on his intelligence and to 50 on his instincts. Right now 99.9 per cent of him screamed '_run!_'. Too bad the very small rest of him that was still able to think coherently knew he wouldn't get far. And somehow he had a feeling that this time, the lord himself would chase him down and _he_ wouldn't get blasted up by a mine.

The lord - for it was obvious he was one, his whole demeanour screamed for respect – took the last round of stairs and stopped at the base, but didn't approach any further.

"I apologize" he said calmly, his voice like cool water. If the room could possibly grew even quieter, it would have. Much later Harry realised that it was possibly the only apology that had left the man's lips, _ever._ Even if it did not sound too apologetic.

Bellatrix looked completely devastated. "M-my lord…"

"Post" the lord addressed Harry, completely ignoring Bellatrix, "was a system used to distribute letters. For a long time it was the only information system that existed until television, phones and computers intervened. However, it never ceased to exist, often being used for more formal occasions or out of habit.  
I observed that even after two decades of chaos, most people still checked their mailboxes in the morning, desperate to hold on a little bit of normality. I imagined it would trigger a surprised surge of happiness, when one morning there was indeed a letter in it."

"And if they don't, you beat them to death like me?" inquired Harry, feeling a little sulky that someone had to explain such a basic thing to him, in front of a crowd none the less.

The lord lifted an eyebrow, and the corners of his mouth twitched a little.

"You look very…_lively_ to me, young man"

And to Harry's utter horror the man's red eyes roamed open over Harry's body. Since every other occupant of the room observed even the slightest move of what was going on, they followed his example.  
'That _bastard…!_' Harry felt oddly violated and very self-conscious. His cheeks began to heat up. Good thing his face was half covered in dust, he would _not_ blush.

"My lord" pressed out Bellatrix, she seemed somewhat… jealous? "He _did_ get the letter my lord, like everyone else! He has no excuse!"

"His date of birth is his excuse Bellatrix. Surely you can guess his age?"

Every eye in the room once again zeroed in on Harry.  
Harry cursed silently; he had hoped no one would pay much attention to his age.  
For the first time since the lord entered, murmurs began to fill the room.

"Lost generation" sneered Bellatrix.

Harry almost pointed out that her beloved lord nearly counted as one too, but he decided to let it be.  
Let them think what they wanted, in a decade the ones in the gap between first generation and veterans would be in their prime, let's see who's laughing then.  
Plus with all the dust on Harry's face and his large clothes he was confident he seemed a bit older, increasing the chance to get some respect from them.

No such luck, the lord had other plans. "How old exactly are you?"

_Bastard_.

"21" he replied curtly, no point in lying now.

The lord smirked. "Well, I hope you will forgive my men, and women, for their rough behaviour, I hereby invite you to my modest party. Please, enjoy yourself."

And with one last amused look at Harry he went back upstairs, Bellatrix and his kidnappers hurried after him. Damn him, thought Harry, the man was _good_.

.

* * *

.

Lucius Malfoy enjoyed himself immensely.  
After weeks of exhausting travelling and sleeping in uncomfortable places, he finally saw what he was looking for; a spark of interest in his lord's eyes. He didn't know what exactly he saw in the boy, but he didn't care, they had reached their destination.

For Lucius, the case was closed: Take the boy and go back home, where he wouldn't be forced to constantly live in this _dirt_. Hopefully someone would clean the boy up first; he was covered in dust and all kinds of oily substances. And his hair! No matter how precious water was, surely he could spend some to wash properly now and then?  
He was surprised that the boy should be a lost generation. He had heard he was some kind of rumoured genius, but he didn't even know what a mailbox was! Could he even read and write? He wouldn't blame him if he couldn't, it didn't surprise him if he had better things to do in his 20 years of life. Surviving for example.

He turned to his co-member to ask if he wanted another drink, but stopped with his mouth open.  
Severus Snape, usually calm and expressionless no matter what the circumstances, sat completely frozen and stiff, eyes wide with a strange mixture of shock, relief and pure horror in them, and stared at the boy. Lucius pulled himself together.

"Severus? What is it?"

No reaction. What was wrong with the man? Annoyed at being ignored he reached out and shook Snape's arm slightly.

"Hey, Severus, what's wrong with you?"

Snape turned to him as if in trance, his eyes obviously seeing things Lucius couldn't. His vision slowly adjusted as if waking up from a particular deep sleep.

"Excuse me? Oh no, it's nothing."

Once again fully composed, he took a sip of his drink.

"It didn't look like nothing."

But Snape ignored him. Lucius let him be, he wasn't fond of begging for information, no, he just waited until the information presented itself. All he had to do was keeping an eye on Severus Snape.  
Like he always did.

.

* * *

.

Harry wanted nothing else than to leave. However, he wasn't very fond of being kidnaped and decided that once was enough, thank you very much.  
The lord had let him be after all, if he was happy with Harry accepting his stupid invitation to stay here for the night and then left him alone, fine.

He crossed the room and took a seat at the bar. He could feel the stares of the others on his back, but now that the strange lord had left, they slowly returned to their conversations.

Tom poured him a drink, unasked.

"Goes on the house" he whispered. "You okay? There's blood on your head"

Harry reached for his head and found the wound. It was already closed and didn't seem too bad but he could feel the dried blood that covered the back of his sculp.

"I'll be fine, thanks" He took the drink.

"You're not the only one they invited. A whole bunch from the smaller groups are here, even from phoenix, very good for business." Tom grinned.  
"I get the feeling they all want to join, and he hasn't even done anything yet, just a short welcome speech but no goals, no promises, nothing. He hasn't even told them they could join, just that he considered the possibility, and everyone swelled with pride. Can you imagine?"

Harry snorted. That lord was good. Not at all like Dumbledore, with his flamboyant speeches and colourful promises of a bright and happy future. He just simply _was_ there, radiating calm confidence that one could do anything.

And he apparently saw right through Harry. How much did he know? Did he just hear the rumours about his skills or did he know Harry could build almost _anything_?  
He hoped not. His gut told him the lord wasn't squeamish. If Harry turned out to be too dangerous and refused to join, he would not have a bump on his head but a cracked open skull.  
He wondered if Remus knew just how dangerous his marvellous lord was. He didn't even comment, when he sent 5 men to get Harry and only 4 returned.

He decided to politely wait a few more hours and then quietly leave the inn. That way, he wouldn't further insult anyone.  
Of course, he wouldn't be who he was if trouble didn't magically find him. Or if his plans would work for a change.

Bellatrix came back from upstairs, her eyes already trained on Harry before she even reached the ground. Her playful demeanour was gone, she looked furiously as she crossed the room.

"You. Upstairs. Now." she hissed.

Uh-oh, that couldn't be good. The lord was upstairs. But as he saw how the conversations once again ceased in favour of watching him and Bellatrix, he decided to go without further objections – they would have fallen on deaf ears anyways.

He stood up and waited for Bellatrix to lead the way, but she made no inclination to go back upstairs herself. After a last shrug in Tom's direction, he turned and began to climb the stairs.

.

* * *

.

That face. His hair. Those _eyes_. It couldn't be. But there was no other explanation. The man they had crossed the country for was Harry _bloody_ Potter.

After all that he's been through. The betrayal. The guilt. The fear. The endless search. The anger. After he finally, _finally,_ decided to let it rest and his past stopped haunting him.

'Lilly', he moaned silently, 'your son is alive'.

And he was right under Dumbledore's nose.  
'There's this talented young man without a group in our town. Why don't you recommend him to your lord Severus?' _My ass._  
He had planned this. For a reason that Snape couldn't fathom, the man had waited patiently for this perfect moment. Did Voldemort know? He hadn't reacted in any way; it's been 20 years after all.  
Sorrowful he watched the boy vanish upstairs.

He needed to get him out of here. _Fast._

_._

* * *

.

One door of a suite stood slightly open. Harry _so_ didn't want to go in there. Annoyed at himself for getting kidnapped, he shook his head to clear his thoughts and drive away the fatigue. Pulling himself together he entered and closed the door behind him.

"Ah Mr Potter! Welcome, please, take a seat."

The lord sat on a leather armchair, hands folded in front of him.

Harry warily sat down in another armchair across of him.  
How did he know his name? He must have spoken with someone from town, old Tom maybe?

The lord poured himself a drink from a low table to their right, and took a sip. He smiled sweetly at Harry.

"Well then Mr Potter; let's talk about your future. You see, someone is hoping I would kill you tonight…"

.

* * *

_**A/N:** Sooo, let's talk about your willingness to review...please? :)_

_I hope checking up on mail after twenty years of chaos isn't too far stretched. Honestly, I have no idea where that idea came from, but it fitted so nicely I just had to use it. And habits can indeed be very hard to change. So let's just pretend we all love our mailbox xD_

_Next: Harry and Riddle's first real meeting. I don't really count the one in this chapter, it somehow turned out to be way shorter than in my head._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:**_ So, exams are finally over and they kinda left me brain-dead, so the last few days I spent lying apathetic in bed. But my energy is returning and I could finally get on with this story.__Thank you all so much for your support, I can't believe 80 people actually want to read more and I love every single one of your reviews! :)_

_Enjoy!_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 3**

"_Well then Mr Potter; let's talk about your future. You see, someone is hoping I would kill you tonight…"_

Well, great; at least he was straightforward. But how was one to react to _that_?

Harry regretted not tagging along with his friends whenever they invited him; if that's the kind of conversation you had on an evening out, he _did _need more training. Although he was pretty sure no standard protocol applied to this specific conversation.

"Well… I'm still breathing."

"I'm glad to see that the important details of live do not escape your notice."

His fake sweet smile turned into a slightly less attractive, but genuine smirk. That bastard was enjoying himself way too much.

"Are you going to tell me what's going on or what?"

"Ah well, the truth is, I'm still deciding that"

"You are still decid-…" Harry forced himself to calm down. The lord was riling him up on purpose; no need to rise to the bait. Irritated Harry pinched the brick of his nose and took a deep breath.

"Why?"

"Because I couldn't make up my mind yet of course" the lord smirked, purposely ignoring that Harry asked for the reason why someone wanted him dead.

Were some people just born to be jerks? Harry's face twisted in disgust.

"Did they not offer you enough in return?"

The lord threw him a withering look. "I'm not an assassin", he stated coolly.

Harry snorted. "Could have fooled me. I never did anything to you so-"

The man was on his feet with a speed that could not possibly be human. With two hands he yanked Harry up by his throat and brought his face so near that their noses were almost touching. Harry was standing on tiptoes; only held upright by the lord's grip. He looked up in those red eyes and was surprised by the amount of sheer anger and pain he found there.

"You have _no_ idea what you did boy" he hissed, his hands gripping Harry even tighter. It became painful to breath.

"I don't even know your name!" he rasped out.

The pressure on his throat cut off his windpipe completely. Now he couldn't breathe at all. Harry forced himself not to panic but couldn't suppress the reflex to lift his hands and tug weakly at the lord's arms. The man didn't seem to take notice of Harry's predicament, he was too lost in his rage.

"No. No you don't. Of course you don't. But I know _yours_ Harry Potter, and for years I dreamt about killing whoever called that name his own."

Harry's lungs screamed for air. His body was twitching now, it took all of Harry's control not to start trashing mindlessly. Little black dots appeared in his vision. The lord lifted him up completely and brought his face even closer, never breaking eye contact. Harry wondered if he would actually kill him.

"And then I realised, it had become an obsession that made me nothing more than a mindless machine. It made me vulnerable and easily manipulated. It was my weakness. _You_ were my weakness."

He knocked him to the floor. Harry gasped and coughed desperately for air. His windpipe felt crushed and his throat was sore. The world was spinning in his head.

The lord regained his composure and smoothed his clothes back into place.

"Imagine my… delight, that even after I decided to abandon my obsession, I _still_ got manipulated. Now, to your incredible luck I can't decide whether I want to kill _you_ or that idiot who thought he could use me for his cowardly plans."

His throat finally eased up a bit and fresh air streamed into his lungs, but he didn't even bother trying to sit up; he felt light-headed and sick, the world was a whirlwind of blurry colours. He tried to understand what the lord was saying, but he couldn't concentrate over the loud pumping of his heart in his ears.

He felt more than saw that the lord was crouching down beside him.

"And even more regrettably is that I indeed could use your talents, if you live up to your reputation that is."

Harry still didn't move but he decided to take a chance and tried to talk. It felt like he was screaming but only a raw whisper came out.

"You're not delighted I take it."

The anger in the lord's eyes faded, and the corners of his mouth twitched.

"No _Harry_, I am not. However, I'm beginning to believe your presence brightens my mood considerably. It's therapeutic."

"Glad I could help."

The lord stood up and returned to his armchair, where he took a large gulp of his drink.

"So, back to the beginning; I'm still deciding."

Harry cleared his throat. It hurt. "You're not going to tell me what I did?"

"No, not yet."

"Will you tell me who else wants to see me death?"

"Probably not" was the light answer.

"You don't think he might kill me the moment I step out of here alive?"

"Why _Harry_, I didn't take you for an optimist. Who said I'll let you live?"

Harry glared at him as best as he could from his position on the floor. "I thought you're still deciding."

The lord looked at him amused. "And you are positive you can win my favour?"

"I won't try anything of the sort. But if you hold a personal grudge for years and then finally have the chance to take revenge, you first make sure that the person knows exactly what he dies for. _You_ however refused to tell me anything at all."

The lord seemed to contemplate his statement for a moment. "Clever as expected. Very good _Harry_, your chances rise by the minutes"

Harry let out an unbelieving snort and stood up slowly. He still felt light-headed, but the world had stopped playing carousel.

"Could you please stop doing that?" he asked as he carefully sat back down in his armchair.

"Do what?"

"Saying my name like that. It's unnerving"

He smirked at him. "I'm trying to get used to it _Harry_. Plus it's highly enjoyable."

"Oh? Getting used to a death man's name seems like a waste to me"

"Hmm, indeed. On the other hand, killing you seems like a waste too."

"Good to know."

"But I'm sure it would be fun as well."

That was _not _good to know. That man was crazy. And what other sick bastard was out there for his life anyway? The only thing someone could blame him for was building weapons that were used in a rather…unfriendly way. But he couldn't remember doing something to deserve death. And surely he wouldn't have forgotten meeting a man like him?

"Join my group", the lord said abruptly.

Harry gaped at him. "Was that supposed to be an invitation? Just now you nearly killed me and yet you sound like I already agreed!"

"You don't have a choice _Harry_. You want to live I assume?"

Harry felt his anger beginning to rise to unhealthy levels.

"Now look here bastard, if some lord could have just threatened my life in order for me to join, I would be in a group already. For all I know you just made that story up to-"

"It is _not_ made up. There isn't a second that I don't wish you were never born", the lord hissed.

Harry's insides clenched in fear. There was so much conviction in his voice that he couldn't possibly be lying.

The lord sighed. "This complicates my plans a lot. Believe me, I abandoned every intention of hunting you down for many years now. And if I knew _you _of all people would be behind this rumour, I possibly wouldn't even have come here. I pride myself to be a logical man with control over his emotions bu-"

"Control?" exclaimed Harry "You almost killed me on a whim and you call that control? Hell, I _really_ don't want to see you when you lose it…"

"Like I said _Harry_, you're the exception. I knew I would get overwhelmed by rage if I saw you. But that is not our problem right now."

Harry laughed. "Well, maybe it's not yours but it sure as hell is mine."

The lord ignored him completely. "No, the problem is there is someone out there who was certain that I would kill you if I were to meet you."

Harry paused to consider this. "You know each other pretty well don't you? I mean there is no way someone could be that certain of your actions if he didn't know what kind of person you are."

Harry tried not to think about what type of person the lord exactly was, if strangers made the assumption he went around killing people on sight.

The lord finished his drink and set the glass on the table. Then he stood up and began to pace the room.

"It is best if you do not know too much about the past."

"Considering that there are two people wishing for my death because of it, I'm afraid I can't agree with you."

The lord paused and stared out of the small window.

"I cannot hold you responsible for your actions in the past. Reason itself is against it. That however doesn't mean I don't wish you were never born. Because if you weren't, you couldn't have done anything in the first place."

"That didn't make any sense. At all." remarked Harry exasperated.

The man turned to Harry, the usual smirk on his face again. "It doesn't matter. What matters is that I decided, _for now_, not to kill you. But…"

He came to a stop besides Harry's armchair. Harry wondered why sitting down was often considered a privilege while the servants remained standing. With the lord's tall figure looming next to him, Harry couldn't help but feel trapped and small in his chair.

"…but that still leaves someone out there hungry for your blood. And as much as it pains me to confess ignorance, I have no idea why."

Harry's neck grew stiff from looking up to him. But breaking eye contact was not an option.

"Wait, I thought you knew who-"

"I know _who_, but not _why_. Do try to pay attention _Harry_"

Harry opened his mouth in outrage and wanted to retort but the lord held up a hand to stop him. And to Harry's horror he found himself obeying the unspoken command, as if it was an inherent instinct.

"He must want you dead if he arranged this little meeting for us, but it simply does not _fit_. I'm missing something, a piece of information that might be crucial to understand what happened. He is a manipulating fool and he divides the world in black and white, this made him so certain that I would stay true to my revenge."

Dread began to settle in Harry's stomach. "Dumbledore."

The lord raised his eyebrows. "Whatever do you mean?" he asked in mock ignorance.

"It's Dumbledore isn't it?" Harry took the silence as a yes. "Shit I'm _so_ dead." He groaned. Dumbledore controlled the freaking city. There was literally no place for Harry to run. Two strong lords wanted him dead, and he wasn't even in a group.

"But wait, we lived in the same city for years how come I'm not already dead? I mean, he isn't the type to get his hands dirty, but he has many men under his control who would happily do the job for him. So why did he wait for you?"

"Another piece that does not fit in the puzzle. I'm beginning to think his manipulations reach much farther back than I originally thought. I don't like it at all, and you", he leaned forward and invaded Harry's personal space once again, "you are going to help me understand it."

Harry leaned back and tried to get some space between them but the armchair trapped him.

"I don't even have a clue what happened in the past, how am I supposed to know what even you don't understand?"

"Because what you said earlier is true. If you are planning to kill someone for years, you make sure he understands the reason."

Harry gaped at him "Wait a sec, that's your plan to find out? But wouldn't that mean…"

"That Dumbledore must believe he has no other choice but to kill you himself. And right before that, he will tell you what he purposely didn't tell me 20 years ago."

He smirked at Harry, obviously enjoying his reaction.

"Yeah great plan, except, oh I don't know, I will be _dead_ before you will find out?"

"Please, what kind of lord would I be if I can't even protect one member?"

"Wait I-…I did _not _agree to join you damn it!" He pushed the lord out of his way and stood up to get some much-needed space between them.

With his hands folded behind his back the lord followed him slowly while Harry backed away more and more.

"Alone you won't stand a chance against Dumbledore. In fact you don't stand a chance against _anyone._ I'm truly surprised how all these groups just let you be."

"Why shouldn't they? I haven't done anything and like you said I'm not a threat on my own so-…"

"Oh no _Harry_; I said you don't stand a chance if they would seriously attack you, I never doubted you were a threat. I'm merely surprised they don't see that as well."

Harry's back hit the wall. Well shit, end of the road. And the lord was still approaching.

"I'm not… How could I possibly be a threat I'm just one person."

The lord grinned as if he knew exactly Harry wanted him to underestimate his talents.

"I don't fear your person, _Harry_. I am… wary of your mind."

Harry was trapped once again, this time between the wall and the lord. The constant closeness of the other man made him nervous. That was bad; he usually couldn't think straight if he was nervous. Harry started to sweat.

"My mind huh? It's not _that_ great you know…rumours and such… often exaggerate…"

"Should I go back to strangling you then?"

"Gods no!" cried Harry, "I thought we covered that, err, you know, reason over emotions and stuff…"

"You missed an important point I'm afraid: the only _reason_ to let you live in the first place is that I could use you."

"Yes, yes, to get Dumbledore to tell you whatever you think he kept from you. I get it okay? I want to know what happened in my past and since you refuse to tell me I actually might consider your crazy plan-"

"No."

Harry looked up to the taller man, confused. "No? Now look here, it was _your_ plan-"

"And we will execute it. But that was not what I meant with using you."

"Err, look you have no idea what I'm even doing right? You just heard some rumours and-… For fuck's sake could you please back off! I can't _think_ like that!"

The lord had moved so close that their bodies were literally touching. Seriously, what went on in that lunatic's mind?  
The bastard had the nerve to actually chuckle. And he didn't back off; not an inch.

"I'm perfectly comfortable. Anyways, we are getting off topic."

"Really now? Which one exactly? The one where you can't decide whether to kill me or not, or why Dumbledore wants me dead, or-"

"The one where I made it clear that I want you. And I usually get what I want, _Harry_."

He would _not_ blush, no, not again. But who could blame his mind for reaching suggestive conclusions in a position like _this_? And he still pronounced his name in that _voice_.

"You can't force someone into your group remember?"

"I won't have to force you" he smirked "You will want to join soon enough."

"Wha-…And why would I want a join a lord who threatened to kill me at least 3 times in one hour?"

"Because you know I'm the only one who can properly use you."

Harry tried to ignore the truth in this statement for the sake of his own sanity.

"I'm not a tool at your disposal!"

"Indeed. You're not at my disposal. Not yet."

"What the fu-"

"Now, I'm afraid I have demanded your presence long enough. You look as if that rumoured brain of yours could use some time to think."

He grabbed Harry's arm and dragged the furious young man to the door.

"You're kicking me out? Now?"

"I didn't realise you came to like me."

Harry ignored him. "What about Dumbledore?"

"I will contact you soon enough. For the moment he will be too busy trying to figure out why I didn't kill you. That should occupy him for a while. It would be best if you tried to stay away from phoenix members."

"That's about half of the town!" protested Harry.

"It won't be for long. We will have to be prepared fast. And I would like to test you."

"Test me? About what?"

The lord looked at him smugly. "Whether you live up to my expectations of course. I will give you the details later."

He opened the door and manhandled Harry out of the room.

"I told you I don't wish to join you! Hell, I don't even know your name yet!"

The lord paused and looked at Harry with an uncertainty in his eyes that Harry wouldn't have thought possible. As if he was arguing with himself over something.

"It's Tom. Tom Riddle." He finally said.

"Tom." Harry said testing, slightly taken aback by the civil answer.

"Do _not_ call me that, ever." Tom hissed.

"Huh? You call me Harry!" he protested.

"I can call you whatever pleases me."

"Wha-"

"Just…Don't call me that." The genuine tone in his voice was all it took for Harry's anger to evaporate. The mood swings of the man really confused Harry.

"Fine, err, Riddle?" he tried.

When he got no reaction he thought that was about as good as it could get. Riddle it was; fitting too, for the man.

Harry wondered if it was his real name; official documents had lost all their value after the collapse and you could name yourself whatever you wanted. Some people held on to their birth names in order to not lose themselves completely, others invented a new name along with their personalities; after the chaos no one was quite the same as before.

Harry wished briefly he had done the same and not used the name on his birth certificate; after all he seemed to be in this mess because of it.

"Try checking your mailbox next time, Harry. Oh and please wash yourself before you come here again, I want to see what's under all that grease."

Harry wanted to retort that honest work was dirty, unlike ordering people around as a lord, but he found himself staring at a closed door. That bastard just shut the freaking door in his face! He really needed a new word for him; bastard just wasn't strong enough.

Grumpily he began to walk back downstairs. He really needed to sleep, all that anger and confusion he felt while being with Riddle was exhausting.

"I told you Avery, he wanted the kid alive to kill him himself!"

Harry looked down and saw the familiar faces of his kidnappers, as well as Bellatrix, huddled together and whispering agitated to each other. At least Harry thought they were trying to whisper; they were obviously slightly drunk and what seemed to them like a low whisper was in fact them talking normally.

"But he usually lets us watch! I so wanted to see it!" whined Bellatrix, "You think he lets me have the body afterwards?"

"Sorry Bellatrix, no body for you" Harry interrupted crossly, feeling more than a bit sick after hearing her words.

The reactions of the startled group cheered him up a bit though.

"You're still alive" Bellatrix stated disappointed. Her eyes moved down to Harry's neck, where Harry knew the marks of Riddle's hands were beginning to form.

"For now", she grinned wickedly.

"Or so I heard", huffed Harry. Then out of a whim he asked: "What's his name anyway?"

Bellatrix gaped at him. "You…! How did you address his lordship up there?!" she screeched. "It's Lord Voldemort, majestic isn't it?" she added dreamily.

"Voldemort?" Harry asked baffled.

Since a lot of people from different countries ended up in London over the years he picked up some French. Flight of death? For real now, Riddle?

"No, I meant his real name."

Bellatrix threw him a withering look. "It's _Lord_ Voldemort for you, and no one knows his real name. And don't you dare ask him! The last one who was stupid enough to do that didn't turn up again, didn't he Avery?"

The one called Avery nodded his head while trying to drink, and ended up spilling the liquor everywhere on himself.

Harry pondered about the fact why Riddle apparently introduced himself with a name that none of his followers knew. He decided to think about it next morning after having a nice long rest. And about his past, or that Dumbledore wanted to kill him, or that Remus and Sirius just might have to fight against him, or the fact that following Riddle seemed less appalling than any other lord he met. Which was probably the most disturbing thought out of the lot.

Without a second glance at Bellatrix he left the inn. He heard her calling after him but he didn't think he could bear anymore for tonight and closed the front door firmly behind him.

It was late, or early in the morning more precisely. The air was chilly and it looked as if it would rain soon.

He hurried home and only after he closed his own door behind him, did he feel some of the tension leave him. Tired he moved through his workshop, only thinking about his nice warm bed, when something on the floor made him stop dead in his tracks.

He had forgotten all about the man who was slowly bleeding to death in his shop. It seemed he had wanted to crawl out of the building but he didn't get far. His leg lay not far from him, and a big pool of blood covered a good bit of Harry's floor.

Just freaking great!  
Riddle would hear of this; and he would pay for it, Harry swore to himself.

.

* * *

**A/N:** _Yeah well, you all know what I'm begging for at this point but I'll do it anyway so: please leave me a tiny little review :) Just one sentence makes me so happy it's ridiculous. And it motivates me like nothing else to keep on writing so...if you're still interested let me know!  
Until next time, you are awesome! :)_


	4. Chapter 4

_**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your kind reviews! I have no other story to compare this to, but the number of followers almost doubled last chapter; now I really don't want to screw this up anymore *laughs nervously*.  
Anyway, I hope you'll like this chapter, so enjoy! :)  
_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 4**

Basic psychology implied that if you spend your morning already in a miserable state of mind, your day won't get any better.

It was going to be an awful day.

Harry had not slept nearly enough, because he spent the little time he had left after Riddle's oh-so-nice invitation disposing a mutilated body.  
What he did first thing on this wonderful morning? Cleaning a dry pool of blood in his workshop. Not Harry's favourite pastime either.

He decided to stay at home for today and only serve customers who came directly to his shop. All errands could wait, he intended to stay away from Riddle or his followers, or group phoenix for that matter.

Riddle. Dumbledore. His precious few friends. His future.

Harry scrubbed the floor angrily. He knew lord Voldemort's appearance was not the actual cause of his problems, but he couldn't help the anger that coursed through his veins when he thought about how Riddle destroyed any hope of a peaceful life within a few hours. Or rather the new knowledge that Riddle brought with him.

The strongest lord in the city was trying to kill Harry and for some bizarre reason he had waited for years to do it.  
Even if Harry joined Riddle, could a new lord really provide enough protection against a man who controlled the strongest and largest group, potentially not only in London, but whole Britain?  
Who knew what was happening in this country? News travelled slower than groups were formed or disbanded. Group phoenix had been there right from the beginning and has been steadily growing since then. It was very well possible for them to be the oldest and thus most experienced group in the history of this new society.

Harry sighed half exhausted, half irritated. For now, his best bet was to trust Riddle that Dumbledore would not make his next move in the near future. And Harry didn't like trusting Riddle one bit.

He looked down on his floor. Luckily only his living space and the shop in the front had wooden floor, the rest was plain stone. The blood came off completely, leaving Harry only with a bloodied cloth and stained hands.

The bell above his front door clattered and Harry tried to look past the shelves to see who entered. The shop was empty. Harry walked warily past the shelves and came to a stop behind his counter. Still no sign of a customer.

"Hello?" he asked the empty room.

"Is that _blood_?!" squeaked an indignant voice from _below_ Harry's eyesight.

Harry looked down and froze.

It was a child. A child! All alone in his bloody workshop. That was impossible! Where were his protectors? His group, his parents, his lord, _anyone_?

A child never was left alone without strict protection. They were the most precious things a group had; and their weakest points. They were better guarded than their lords for fuck's sake, what was it doing here? And what on earth should he do? He hadn't seen a child for years; no one knew how many children a group had, they were often kept inside. Harry couldn't remember talking to one even once in his life, since he was always surrounded by people who were at least 10 years older than him.

"Daddy told me people who are gaping are idiots. Are you an idiot? You look like one."

It was a boy, at least that much was clear. A slender boy with an aristocratic face and bright blond hair. The proportions were all in order but he was so _small_. He barely reached the height of his counter.

"Excuse me?" replied Harry shell-shocked.

The boy regarded him as if he was the dirt under his little shoes. Harry was confused. Weren't children supposed to be pure, innocent and kind-hearted and, well, nice?

"Well at least I now know you're not a threat. That's good. Daddy told me to run and hide somewhere safe in case of an emergency, so unless you don't want to die a _very_ painful death, you better protect me with your life, is that understood?"

Harry could have read a dozen books claiming how pure children were, in this very moment he decided that this boy was a complete and utter brat.

"And if _you_ don't want to die a very painful death, I suggest you do not touch anything and tell me where the hell your protectors are and what you are doing here." he hissed.

"You can't harm me!" yelled the boy and although his stance was defiant, his quivering voice betrayed his fear. "If-… If my father or-…or if my lord finds out about this then-!"

"Who is your father?" Harry interrupted.

"Lucius Malfoy. He was a great lord once! But he decided to follow the noble goal of another" the kid replied with obvious pride.

Harry groaned. A lord following another lord? "Please don't tell me you're from group Voldemort."

If anything, the child's chest swelled even more with pride. "If you dare to touch me, he will torture you to death, that's what he promised me."

"Lovely fellow" replied Harry dryly.

"But he will surely reward you if you were to help me" the kid added hastily.

"Help you? Shouldn't you be surrounded by protectors who could help you? What happened?"

The kid bit his lower lip and nervously began fiddling with the hem of his shirt. His eyes darted to the windows, as if to make sure no one was watching.

"We got ambushed", he whispered, "We were walking back to the inn when they came out of nowhere. Most of our men were already on the ground when Daddy made the secret sign that told me I have to run. So I did and ended up in here." His little face frowned with worry. "Do you think they will hurt my father?"

Harry sighed and swiftly walked to the window and closed the curtains. Then he opened the door and changed the 'open' sign to 'closed'. It hasn't even been 12 hours and he was already in trouble. Again because of Riddle. That man could not possibly be good for him.

"Okay, was lord Voldemort with you?" he asked the child.

"N-No. He left the inn early this morning, I think. It was just my f-father and about 4 of our members."

The kid clearly was beginning to panic. It was obvious he tried hard to compose himself, but soft sobs shook his little body.  
Harry was at a total loss. He wasn't good at comforting people, how was he supposed to comfort a child? He crouched down in front of him, with a good distance between them, mind you.

"Err, look… What's your name? Your first name I mean."

The kid looked at him with watery grey eyes that seemed entirely too big for his small face.

"D-Draco. Draco Malfoy."

The simple question had the desired effect and pulled Draco's attention away from the attack.

"Okay Draco, I'm Harry Potter. I have, err… met your lord and survived the encounter, so I guess he doesn't see me as an enemy. How about I take you back to the inn to your group, hmm?"

And then he could kick Riddle's ass for leaving a dead man in his house and shove an unprotected child in after. But Draco didn't need to know that part.

Draco shook his head determined. "No. The sign means I have to run and hide and stay there. Only after the danger passed should I try to return or better wait until my group finds me."

"Did this happen before? You seem pretty sure of what to do."

"No, but Daddy made sure that I memorised the plan and I promised him I'll do exactly what he told me."

Harry sighed. "Okay but wouldn't it be safer if you were with your group?"

Damn! What if someone followed Draco and some group was just getting ready to storm his shop?

Draco could not be convinced. "I'll stay here and you'll protect me."  
He sounded very sure of himself and his grand plan. "And I'm hungry so you have to get me something to eat. And I want hot chocolate."

Harry snorted. "Are you sure you're not Voldemort's own kid? You certainly have his attitude."

He stood up and pondered on his options. He could tell Draco to stay hidden here and go to the tavern alone. There he could notify the group of what had happened. Or he could stay here with Draco and wait in hope none of the attackers followed him. And what if they came here? Should he fight? Let them take Draco and then go notify Riddle? Or should he tell no one, so nobody could blame him afterwards? Yeah that should work brilliant, as if Riddle wouldn't notice his guilt immediately next time they meet. Fighting was only an option against a limited number of attackers. Harry had some nice traps he could activate in his front yard that should give them some protection. The problem was that they couldn't distinguish a harmless customer from an attacker.

"Hello? I'm still hungry, go make me some food or I'll tell lord Voldemort that you mistreated me."

"Mistrea-… Hey! I'm helping you out here kiddo, how about some gratitude?"

Harry did not want to imagine Riddle's reaction if he somehow heard Harry mistreated his children. Even keeping Draco alone in his shop could probably get him killed. What if Draco's group found him here, after he went missing several hours ago? They would most likely kill him on the spot if there was any indication that Harry himself was the kidnapper.

"Gratitude? It's an honor I let you _speak_ to me!"

"Yeah right, as if I asked for it. Okay, you stay here and don't touch anything and I'll see what I can find. Then I'll set some traps up okay? Don't move!" he warned.

Harry walked back through the shelves to his living corner and scraped some food together. Hot chocolate; the kid was a spoiled brat. As if anyone would just have chocolate powder at home. A glass of plain milk would have to do, Harry hoped it wasn't already expired. The last thing he needed was a sick or injured kid.

He heard a loud yelp from the shop and rushed cursing to the front.

"What part of don't move did you not understand?!" he scolded.

Draco had stepped in a smaller version of the force field that already caught Sirius. Harry thought he had turned off the damned thing but obviously he was wrong. Now he had a _child_ several feet in the air and upside down in his workshop. Someone was going to kill him for that, he was sure of it.

"WHAT IS THIS? WHAT'S HAPPENING TO ME?" yelled Draco with a loudness that Harry wouldn't have thought possible from such a small creature. And that could probably be heard several blocks away from here.

"O-Ooookay, clam down Draco, everything's fine!"

"FINE? FINE?! IF MY FATHER HEA-.."

"Shh! Quiet you imbecile!"

"DON'T TELL ME WHA-…"

"Look, you're…err…flying, right?" Harry said, desperate to shut him up before half London knew Draco was here. It was a ridiculous thing to say, but Draco shut his mouth and frowned.

"Flying?" he asked astounded.

"Flying." Harry nodded seriously, even though he had no idea what that would change for Draco.

Draco paused to think about that.

"Then why am I upside down?" he demanded suspiciously.

"Err, you erm… Well, it's your first try, right?"

Draco nodded slowly, what looked absolutely ridiculous in his position, but Harry was just relieved he actually seemed to believe him.

"How do I get down?"

"Err… You just think really hard about it", he answered slowly and moved to the small generator. "Got it?"

Draco nodded again, his face a mask of pure concentration. Harry turned the generator off behind his back and caught the now falling Draco.

Draco's face was flushed from being upside down but seemed otherwise unharmed. Harry thought he would sob again or yell at him or demanding to eat, instead Draco's face lit up excited.

"Can I try that again?"

Who would have thought? Now his inventions already served as toys for children, Harry wondered what came next.

Loud banging on the front door startled the two.

"Open up! Resistance is useless, we know a child is in there!"

"Shit!" Harry cursed and grabbed Draco by the arm. "Back door, come on!"

"We have the whole house surrounded! Give yourself up and we might not harm you!"

Might? Incredible convincing. Harry's mind rushed. The back door was useless, they would never make it out. Attack was their best option, even if they were probably only stalling time.  
Harry went back behind the counter and activated one of the more harmful traps. The men standing too close to his house were instantly catapulted backwards by an invisible pressure wave. As if a huge explosion just happened inside the house, except there was only the shock wave, no explosion. Harry heard cursing and hectic shouting.

"Draco, tell me when they are advancing again."

Draco hurried to the window and peeked through the curtains.

"Awesome, some crashed into the other houses!" he bounced excited. "Do that again!"

"Tell me when they're near again."

He couldn't keep blasting them away, the power was only sufficient for three waves.

"Some others are coming! T-There are so many of them outside!"

Harry blasted them away once more and then activated some other mechanisms. Not as destructive, but maybe it was enough if he could somehow trap them and then get out.

"They aren't coming again, they are just standing there talking" informed Draco. "Wait! They are lighting torches and…a-and now they are putting them on things, like…like a crossbow."

"Fuck! Of all the things they could have-… Draco get away from the window!"

Draco stood frozen, staring with wide eyes through a slit in the curtains.

"Draco! Get down!" Harry yelled.

Draco's knees gave in and he crouched down just when an inflamed torch burst through the window. The curtains and a wooden shelve caught fire immediately.

"Oh gods, this isn't good. This is not good at all." Harry sprinted to Draco and seized him up by the waist.

"W-What are you doing?" asked Draco scared.

"We are getting out of here"

"But-…But they are out there!"

"Believe me, we are better off with them than inside here."

Harry burst through the door, Draco in his arms. Their attackers were momentarily stunned by their appearance. Surely they never thought their prey would come out after only one torch.

"ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY?!" yelled Harry at them while crossing the front yard.

The idiots just gaped at his outburst. So did Draco.

"Put the fire out NOW!"

"Well, we are terribly sorry, but if you would have cooperated a bit quicker, this would not have been necessary." mocked the leader.

"Do you have ANY idea what's in there you fool? If you don't stop the fire then this whole neighbourhood will explode_, including_ you and your little gang!"

Confused, the man looked at the others. He turned back to Harry and opened his mouth when a loud explosion from inside the house stopped him. Luckily it was only something small or they would all be toast already.

"Put the fire out!" the leader yelled, and the others hurried to comply.

Harry watched not without satisfaction as about half of them got caught up in his traps. Although he was glad that the other half made it. There was not much time, something bigger could blow up all of them any second if they didn't hurry.

A bunch of them stayed back and surrounded Harry and Draco with guns, crossbows or bats in their hands.

"You're both coming with us to our lord. No tricks, or we'll have to harm you." warned the leader.

"And who is the great lord that abducts little kids?" spat Harry while one man tore Draco from his arms and another two grabbed his arms.

"Our lord is Fudge, and I'd show some respect if I were in your situation."

Harry groaned. Just his luck. Not only was Dumbledore after him, now he managed to piss of his greatest rival. Fudge was always trying to go against Dumbledore. His group occupied a good part of London's outskirts. It was clear that the moment Dumbledore stopped being on full alert, was the moment Fudge would take over the city. There were also recent rumours that Fudge planned to merge all the little groups in the city and then destroy group phoenix. He was a strong believer in the old society and rumour had it he wanted to establish a ministry and dissolve the groups. With him as the minister of course, as if there was any difference whether the city was run by a lord or a minister. He was certainly the second most powerful man in London and because of his beliefs in a ministry, he had not given a name to his group or himself.  
The only question was: what did Fudge gain from kidnapping a child from a new group that only had a scouting party in town?

Like Voldemort's members, they put a bag over Harry's head so he couldn't see anymore where he was going. At least they left him conscious. Fools.  
Even though he couldn't see, he still felt each turn they took and tracked their route on his mental map of London. As long as they let him walk on his own, he could retrace the path between his house and their no-longer-secret headquarter.

Harry's house was rather far away from the centre, so they didn't have to walk that long to reach the outskirts.  
After approximately 30 minutes Harry was led down a flight of stairs. The bag was removed from Harry's head and he could see where they were.  
They were walking down a long corridor with no windows. Harry suspected the stairs had led them into some kind of underground building.  
He also noticed two other peculiar things: The floor was flooded, so they stood ankle-deep in water, and they had electricity. Electricity wasn't that uncommon, since generating minimal power was quite easy but it wasn't possible to maintain the kind of network that could be used for a whole housing block, left alone a city. Harry was surprised they went through all the trouble to have an electricity network for their whole house. Then again, Fudge was most likely holding on to every piece of old order he could find.

"Fancy floor" remarked Harry. The leader grumbled. "It leaked in last night. Damn that rain! We tried to soak it up but it just kept raining."  
He opened a door at the end of the corridor. "After you", he mocked over-politely.

Harry shot a look at Draco, who was still carried by a man but apparently unharmed, and entered.  
It appeared to be a kind of office, with a coach, armchairs, an old-fashioned sturdy wooden table and a fireplace.

A slightly podgy man with little hair sat behind the table. A bowler laid next to him on the table.

"Lord Fudge sir, we successfully captured the child. And also this err…" he looked uncertain to Harry, as if noticing him for the first time.

"We need the child alive but who might you be?" asked Fudge and eyed Harry up and down. "You can't possibly be his father, your faces are way too different." He looked Harry over a last time and then ordered dismissive "Kill him."

The men who had brought Harry and Draco here immediately raised their weapons and Harry's mind began racing. Fudge didn't know who he was and had no interest in him, only Draco. He had said he needed Draco alive, probably to put Riddle under pressure. Harry decided that he was damned should he really die because of Riddle. A ludicrous plan took form in his brain. He straightened his spine and took on a self-assured, invulnerable stance.

"You have no idea who I am, don't you lord Fudge?" he sneered.

Curiously Fudge held up a hand and the men surrounding Harry stopped still.

"And who would that be?" he inquired.

Harry felt not nearly as confident as he pretended to be, but his life depended on the credibility of his act. He placed the very best imitation of the smug smirk, which haunted him since last night, on his face and took a calming breath.

"I am lord Voldemort."

.

* * *

**_A/N: _**_Wondering how Tom will react to his imposter? We'll find out soon. :)_

_At first I wanted to continue straight on with the mystery of Harry's past etc. but Draco was really persistent in making his appearance and I thought hey, two things can happen simultaneously in your life so why not. We'll get to Harry's past I promise. I also apologize for not having any Tom in this chapter, I know, I know, I hate it too :P_

_Anyway, congratulations! You now all get to be judges, fun no? So let me know your sentence in your review, it only takes a few seconds of your life :)_


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: **_Yay, look who found the time to update! :P  
Not much to say except a huge _'thank you'_ to everyone who is reading this, and special thanks to the diligent reviewers!_

_We have two lord Voldemorts in this chapter...what could possibly go wrong?_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 5**

_"I am lord Voldemort."_

Aaand- there went his chance to remain neutral. Just Brilliant.

Draco made a half snorting, half choking sound, but luckily they ignored him.

"Lord Voldemort himself?" asked Fudge astounded. He looked as if he couldn't quite decide if Harry spoke the truth and if he did, how he should react. "I did hear you are very young for a lord, but I didn't imagine you'd be quite that young." He eyed Harry suspiciously.

"Did you kidnap me to discuss my age? And without knowing who I was, I might add. Your information about your prey is rather lacking." sneered Harry.

"You are in no position to be insulting. Look at the situation you are in; clearly your information is more lacking than mine!"

"Ah minister, no need to get so worked up. And yes, I know you'd prefer to be called minister, because you do not think much of the new system and rather run a ministry than a group. Quite an interesting perspective by the way."

Harry smiled sweetly at Fudge and leisurely strolled forward, completely ignoring the weapons that still pointed at him.

His heart was pounding madly and he could feel the panic lingering in his chest but he pushed it away and focused entirely on his act.

Draco was gaping at him, but otherwise made no inclination to take any action and Harry was very glad for it.

Harry came to a stop in front of Fudge's table, his posture carefully at ease.

"I do so like men who have their own way of living you see, all the mindless sheep nowadays make me sick."

Harry had to stop himself from rolling his eyes when Fudge smiled back at him with obvious pride.  
Inflating the man's ego was way too easy, no wonder a manipulative bastard like Riddle or Dumbledore had so much power if even a powerful lord was so vain he couldn't tell a compliment and a manipulation apart.

"Anyway", he continued, "I think we both agree that with me being already here, we saved a lot of time-wasting messaging and can go straight to the point. Now minister, please tell me what you had in mind with my child?"

He wasn't smiling anymore. Instead he looked calmly into Fudge's eyes and saw with satisfaction how Fudge shifted uneasy in his seat. Fudge clearly had the upper hand here, but Harry's complete lack of fear made him nervous.

"Ah yes" Fudge cleared his throat and made a vague gesture to the armchair in front of his table. "Let's talk business."

"Thank you minister, but I prefer standing."

Harry almost laughed out loud when Fudge hastily stood up too, to level up to Harry.  
The man might have a small army under him, but brute force was all he relied on. He wasn't made to rule, he didn't have the powerful presence a strong lord should have and if anything didn't go according to his well thought-out plan, he got completely thrown off course.

Fudge hadn't planned to meet lord Voldemort under these circumstances. Harry was pretty certain he had intended to use Draco to make Voldemort agree to whatever he wanted before they actually met.  
Of course, with the right tactic he could still blackmail Voldemort, but he would have to do it face to face, and Fudge lacked exactly what Harry assumed was Riddle's strongest weapon; charisma.  
Fudge needed too much time to think, too much time to respond to new changes.

"Very well then, first let me ask you a question lord Voldemort. Do you plan on staying in London permanently?"

Harry frowned. "And why would that be of any importance?"

"Ah well, you would have to give up your old territory wouldn't you? No offence, but as a new group you can't possibly have enough men to occupy two posts…" Fudge gave him a meaningful look.

"What's your point minister?"

"Oh I'm sure living in the city has its benefits. No one could blame you for abandoning your old territory in the country. It's harsh living in the wild."

"I still fail to see your point minister."

Fudge sighed theatrically. "Well…I would have enough men. I'm certain we could find a... solution that benefits us both."

So he wanted Riddle's territory.  
Harry's mind raced. The group was new, their territory couldn't possibly be big enough to attract Fudge's interest. It was also apparently somewhere in a remote area where living conditions were harsh. Why would Fudge risk a fight for it? Harry was at a loss. He might have a clear enough impression about Riddle's character to imitate him but he had way too little information about Riddle's general involvement in politics.

"Now, now, don't look so gloomy! We don't have to fight. How about you just peacefully resettle your group here in town? I could even help you find-"

"NO!" cried Draco.

Both Fudge and Harry turned to him. Fudge huffed annoyed. "Stay out of this kid."

But Draco only looked at Harry. His big blue eyes staring intently at him, as if trying to send him a message.

"You won't get our water!" he finally yelled.

"Hush boy", chided Fudge.

But it was enough for Harry. Draco knew he didn't have any information whatsoever about their group and tried to help him. The boy either was cleverer than he let on or he was just afraid Harry actually might hand over lord Voldemort's territory to Fudge. As if anyone without a death wish would even consider that option.

Water. They had water. A spring perhaps. A never-ending resource of fresh, clean drinking water. No matter the size of their territory; they possessed transparent gold.

"If you insist on settling this affair peacefully, why don't we make a trading deal? One that does not involve giving up my land of course."

Now that Harry knew what Fudge was after, the smug mask slipped easy on his face.

Fudge looked anything but happy.

"You don't seem to realise what situation you are in. I have you _and_ one of your children _and_ you only have a scouting party in town. Do you think _they_ will rescue you? A few men against a whole group?"

Suddenly there was screaming outside in the hallway. Metal clashed and a few precious gunshots were fired.

"What the hell is it now?" spat Fudge.

A man barged into the room and hastily closed the door behind him.

"Minister! We are under attack sir!"

"Attack? By whom?"

"Er…well…b-by someone sir."

"What do you mean someone? Quit stuttering fool! How many are there?"

"O-one."

Fudge gaped at him, speechless.

Harry had no idea what was going on either but he calmly turned to face Fudge and smirked. "Sorry, you were saying something about a few men and a whole group?"

Fudge's face grew red.  
"Don't just stand there do something!" he yelled at his men.

About half of them hurried out while the other half took position in front of the door, ready to kill the intruder were he to come so far. Harry heard more yelling outside and this time it sounded as if it was right outside the door. Whoever was attacking was very skilled and already very close.

Suddenly it was quiet outside. The door opened once again, but this time slowly, with a long screeching sound. Then something round flew into the room, and before anyone could react it landed directly at Fudge's feet. Harry half expected the thing to explode, until he saw it was hairy. It was a chopped off head. Undoubtedly one of the guards from outside.

While everyone stared dumbfounded at the head, Harry looked at the door to see who entered.

Tom Riddle looked _real_ in an abstract sense. Like his appearance finally matched his inner personality. He held a long, absurd thin sword that was dripping with blood and his arms were soaked too. Apart from that, he looked as if he arrived just in time for tea.

No one moved.

"Excuse the intrusion lord Fudge, but I believe you have something that belongs to me-…"  
His eyes fell on Harry and while his face remained unchanged his eyes widened in surprise. "Do you _like _being abducted?"

"One of your men?" Fudge asked Harry, trembling from rage and fear.

Harry cleared his throat. He could feel Riddle staring at him, with his head tilted slightly to the side as if to ask: what's he talking about?

It wasn't that he evaded to meet Riddle's eyes… The blank wall next to him was just so much more interesting.

"And all alone too, is that a thing to do in your group?" Fudge went on. "Ah I see. You must be the father brave man, yes you kind of have the same cheekbones… The hair comes from the mother then? Your instinct to protect your son is commendable. Well come in, come in! Your lord is already here!"

Riddle looked at Fudge as if he doubted his sanity. Then his eyes darted from Draco, to Harry, and back to Fudge.

"Is he now?" he said slowly.

Harry and Draco were standing stiff, not doing or saying anything. Both were waiting for Voldemort's next step. Harry knew Fudge would kill him on the spot if it came out he fooled him. But a part of him also hoped Riddle would take over, at least then he would be spared of the humiliation to _play_ in front of him.

Slowly a small grin crept on Riddle's face and he turned to Draco. "Are you alright, son?"

It was as if Draco had just been freed of a spell. As soon as it was clear that his lord would play the game, he slipped into his role.

"Daddy!" he cried and ran to Riddle's side.

A short moment he hesitated – he couldn't very well hug the man - then he settled for grabbing the hem of Riddle's shirt and smiled up to him. Riddle distraught patted his blonde hair, all the while staring smugly at Harry. His lips formed silently the words: your move.

Damn that man! Why did he always look as if he was enjoying himself immensely when Harry did anything? He felt as if Riddle studied him with the same amusement another person would observe a particular clumsy puppy.

And how could Fudge believe for one second that Harry was lord Voldemort, when the real man stood right next to him? Without the comparison, Harry's smug attitude might have fooled him, but anyone could feel the aura that surrounded Riddle.  
Hell, the guards didn't even attack him, as if they waited for his permission to kill him.

"Hmm, yes I can see why you would reward the man with a child, his fighting skills are extraordinary." mused Fudge.

"Oh not really."

The statement slipped out of Harry's mouth before he realised it. Diminishing Riddle's abilities just came as a reflex. Riddle's eyebrows twitched.

"Are you saying breaking in here alone is easy?" frowned Fudge.

"Apparently yes. He's nothing special, most of my men are as skilled as him." Harry bluffed.

As if that was possible. The lunatic just took on what? Ten, twenty men? With a sword that looked as if you could break it in half with bare hands. He tried to maintain an air of arrogance, but with Riddle staring at him he felt as small and insignificant as an ant.

"Really..." Fudge did not sound convinced at all. More like he finally managed to trap Harry.

"You're saying your small group can take on mine? Mine is only bested by group phoenix and they do not care for faire fight's I tell you. Is that your answer? Think carefully my dear lord Voldemort; I'm giving you a chance to resettle your group peacefully, no one has to die. However if you chose to resist me I swear I will crush you."

Fudge nodded to himself, proud of his unimaginative threats.

Harry stole a glance at Riddle. It was good Fudge only focused on Harry or he might have seen the sheer disgust in the real lord's eyes.

"No. I'm not saying my small group can take on yours", smiled Harry.

Riddle's eyes narrowed dangerously.

Fudge smiled warmly at Harry. "Very good! I'm glad we unde-"

"I'm saying my scouting party is more than sufficient" finished Harry sweetly.

Draco gaped at him as if Harry just lost his mind. Fudge started to laugh, but when he saw Harry's face he stopped, unsure.

"You…you can't be serious! Are you challenging me? Here? With less than half your group?"

There were two types of fights: One group either attacked the other directly in their territory and fought them until they gave up, or both groups agreed to a challenge.  
A challenge was fought at a specified time on an arranged place. In a way a challenge was more honest, since both groups came prepared and no one was able to barricade themselves in their shelter. If a lord lost in a challenge, his territory belonged to the winner.  
The problem? The fight took place within one week after the challenge was made. There was no way for Voldemort's group to get reinforcements from their headquarter. They would have to fight with a very limited number of men against a group that was known for brute force.  
The other problem? It didn't matter that Harry wasn't really lord Voldemort. If Riddle didn't want to be known as a coward, he'd have to actually show up or no other group would ever trust his word again.

Fudge laughed again. "You are serious! Very well, you challenged me so I get to choose the exact time and place. Congratulations, you are free to go. But after your man killed a dozen of my guards, don't expect mercy. It won't matter if you give up during the fight, I'll wipe you out and present your head to the rest of your group when I take your territory."

"I'll be waiting for your letter", replied Harry, seemingly unaffected.

Inside he was trembling; not because he was afraid of Fudge, but of what Riddle would do to him the moment they got out of here.

Fudge took a half step back. Harry's lack of concern bewildered him.

"Draco, come on, let's get out of here."

And without even glancing in Riddle's direction, Harry left the room.

.

* * *

.

No one tried to stop them while they walked down the corridor. Riddle had known no mercy; they had to step over dozens of bloodied bodies.

Draco caught up to Harry and walked only centimetres behind him.

"You're so dead", Draco whispered maliciously.

Several steps behind them Harry could see Riddle grin.

"I know", he answered.

They reached the stairs and Draco passed Harry and ran up first.

"He likes you" commented Riddle from behind.

"Charming" replied Harry dryly and hurried out after Draco, not wanting to be alone with the lord in a hallway already full of men he killed so easily.

The rain had stopped but the sky was still covered in dark clouds and the streets were muddy.

Draco was already a few steps ahead and waited impatiently for them. The boy obviously wanted to check on his father as soon as possible.

"It's a pity I didn't arrive sooner." Riddle had reached the end of the stairs and was closing in on Harry. "I would have loved to see more of that."

His eyes never left Harry, but Harry obstinately kept on looking ahead.

When Harry stayed silent Riddle continued. "I'm curious, how did you make Fudge believe you were lord Voldemort? No offence but…you really don't look the part."

"Your arrogance precedes you" snorted Harry.

"_My_ arrogance?" Riddle was now walking side to side with Harry, their shoulders almost brushing. Like always the man didn't seem to grasp the concept of private space.

"_You_ just agreed on _my_ behalf to a challenge no group could possibly win."

He took a large step and turned to block Harry's path.

"You do have a plan don't you?"

"Err…"

Harry shifted uneasy from one foot to the other. Now that Fudge wasn't here, all pretence of self-assurance was gone.

"How many of your men are in town?" he asked nonchalantly.

Riddle grabbed a handful of Harry's hair, yanked his head up and forced him to look into his eyes.

"Nineteen. _With_ Draco. And no one fights like me. So, you better start using that brain of yours and tell me you can come up with a strategy, or I swear you will _beg_ for death."

Harry shivered but said nothing.

"Or you could beg now for forgiveness, saying how wrong you were and how utterly ridiculous your notion was to impersonate me. Just so you know; for it to be effective, I expect you on your _knees_."

Anger boiled up in Harry and he knocked the other's hand away.

"Go to hell Riddle! How about _you_ explain to me why a completely unprotected child walked into my home, eh? Or why my workshop exploded because some dumbass lord is after your territory and kidnapped said child. Or how I ended up surrounded by men wanting to kill me for trying to protect the little rascal! Go on, explain! You may remain standing" he mocked.

He tried to walk past Riddle but got held back.

"Correction. We are eighteen, since one of my men got _killed_ walking in your home."

"They tried to kidnap me!"

"You didn't read your invitation."

"Why did you have to use a freaking letter?"

Riddle sighed annoyed. "Being young is a hindrance, you of all people should know that. If you want to be taken seriously as a young lord, you have to respect the old ways. Using precious paper as communication is more than an invitation, it's a message and it adds to you reputation."

"Why on earth would anyone think so far for a stupid invitation?" Harry huffed.

"Politics, _Harry,_ politics."

"Well, I'm no good at politics" grumbled Harry.

"No kidding" stated Riddle flatly.

"Are you coming already?" whined Draco.

"Why did you say he liked me?" wondered Harry aloud and they started walking again.

"He shows his affection with insults and demands" Riddle grinned "you should be honoured; he even commented on your death."

Harry snorted. "Why are those mischievous little humans so important? They are nothing but trouble!"

"They are the real core of the groups. If this were a game of chess, the children are the kings. If you want to destroy a group you don't attack their lord, you kill their children. Kill the lord and a new one will rise. Kill the child and the group has lost an important reason to exist. Fudge promised no mercy. That means even if we have clearly lost, he will still kill Draco."

Harry watched Draco's blonde head bouncing from one side of the street to the other, looking back every few seconds to see if they were finally coming. Harry cursed his weak heart. Any sane man would pack his things and get the hell away from this mess.

"I can't let that happen now can I?" sighed Harry. "Fine, look… I'll figure something out but you have to tell me Fudge's choice of location as soon as possible."

He risked a glance at Riddle. "If you want to win this, it won't be what people generally call a fair fight."

Riddle smirked. "I don't care. As long as your wonder weapons don't break any rules, I won't hesitate to use them."

They reached a junction and Riddle took with Draco the left street.

"How did you find us? And why the hell would you come alone?" Harry shouted after them.

Riddle paused and turned back. "I have my sources. I told you: no one gets away with hurting one of my members. And I was more than enough."

Harry wondered how anyone could be so arrogant without pretending.

"One last question Riddle: If children are the real kings, what are the lords?"

In the distance, he could still see the dangerous smile on Riddle's lips.

"Isn't that obvious _Harry_? They are the players. After all, chess figures have to be told how to move."

And with that they disappeared around a corner and left a dumbstruck Harry Potter behind.

.

* * *

**A/N:** _Okay I have NO idea if there are springs in Britain, or maybe they are everywhere (they are in my country). But let's not forget this story actually takes place in the future and we know water will become a big problem so... Let's just say springs are quite extraordinary :P Yes, someone ought to teach me some basic geography..._

_Anyway, I heard if you tell someone _not_ to do something, he automatically wants to do it so... DON'T YOU DARE REVI- awww, nah that doesn't sound right. PLEASE leave a review :)_


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N:** _Look at that! An ultra-high-speed update! Better you don't get used to it... I try but there's no way I could keep up with it on a regular basis. So enjoy while it lasts! :P_**  
**

_As always, thanks for all your kind reviews, I really appreciate everything you throw at me! (Except stinking socks; please keep them where they are)_

_ENJOY! :)_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 6**

The first time Remus and Sirius found Harry unconscious on the floor, they thought he was dying.

His breath was shallow, his body cold and his heartbeat too slow for a sleeping person.

They tried everything to wake him. Yelling, water, slapping; nothing helped.

They wrapped him into the warmest blanket they could find and waited for his heart to stop. But it didn't. They waited for almost ten hours for something to happen, but Harry's condition neither got worse, nor was it getting any better. They examined him for any wounds but there was nothing, they looked through the house but nothing indicated what could have possibly caused it.

After almost twenty hours they lost to exhaustion and fell asleep. When the two awoke in the next morning, Harry was eating breakfast as if nothing had happened, assuring them that he felt completely normal.

His body temperature had recovered and his heartbeat was as strong as it should be. Everything was normal again, except his appetite. He ate _a lot_. Remus tried to ask him about it, but Harry claimed he was just a little bit more hungry than usual.

Glad that their friend was alright, Remus and Sirius gave him some of their food and left him alone.

The second time it happened, Sirius was visiting Harry alone. Even after recognising the same symptoms, Sirius still tried every imaginable thing to wake Harry, but without avail. This time Harry woke up only several hours after Sirius found him, but no one knew how long Harry had lied there alone. When Harry finally woke up, he told Sirius he was feeling fine, but very hungry.

It happened again. And again. And again.

When his friends became members of group phoenix, they talked their group physician into taking a good look at Harry. Madame Pomfrey was a former hospital nurse and a very kind women. She examined Harry as best as she could with the little equipment she had and with all her massive knowledge.  
She declared she was actually astounded at how healthy Harry seemed, given the circumstances of his upbringing.

It took them a long, long time to figure out what was causing Harry's blackout. Surprisingly it wasn't Harry who finally made the connection. It was Remus.

And it was also Remus who found him this afternoon, unconscious in the middle of his partly exploded workshop.

It hadn't happened for several months, which was unusual long. Remus tucked his younger friend into bed and looked at his peaceful sleeping face. He didn't bother anymore to try and wake him, he knew it was pointless. Harry's lips were blue, his hands cold as ice.

Remus smiled sadly. He couldn't decide whether he should be happy for Harry or concerned. All he knew was what he had to do to ensure Harry would be okay in the future.

Remus knew Harry wouldn't stay much longer in London. He had heard rumours about the new lord in town and his recent challenge against lord Fudge. A scouting party against a whole group. Completely crazy – and so very perfect for one peacefully sleeping young man in front of him. Perfect, but dangerous.

With one last look at Harry, Remus turned and left the half-ruined shop. It wasn't the first time the shop was almost destroyed. With all his ingenuity, Harry couldn't possibly prevent every accident. The destruction was not an unfamiliar sight - the havoc outside was. Trees and bushes had been blasted away. There were footprints of at least three dozen men in Harry's front yard and Remus even saw some blood on the adjacent houses.

Over the past few months, Remus had felt a strange tension rising in town. When he had found Harry unconscious again after the unusual long absence of his blackouts, Remus had known that whatever was bound to happen, it had begun.

He met a few phoenix members on his way, but only greeted them half-heartedly. His attention was focused on his goal.

Several minutes later he reached the local inn. Remus paused. He knew what he was about to do violated almost every feeble law the new group-based society had established so far. Not to mention Harry would throw a fit if he found out. What he certainly would, being the little genius he was. And if the rumours about lord Voldemort were true, it was also not really the safest thing to do.

Remus took a deep breath and entered.

* * *

"Remus!" Old Tom smiled when he saw him. "What brings you here so early?"

The bartender and Remus got along well. Sirius often dragged him away from work in the evenings and went to the inn with a group of their friends. After a few hours, Remus remained the only person sober enough to keep up with a decent conversation. In the middle of drunk men from different groups, old Tom always appreciated the company.

"Some personal business."

"Business?" Tom frowned and lowered his voice. "You know a foreign scouting party is currently residing here, right? Have you heard about the challenge? They are crazy I tell you. A lone phoenix member shouldn't be doing business here Remus. As long as they are here, I can't guarantee a neutral zone, you knew that."

Remus' eyes fell on the foreign members across the room. A little group sat among a table, discussing loudly and insulting each other in every second sentence. In the corner sat a man completely clothed in black robes, quietly reading a book while a blonde women seemed to sew tattered clothes a few tables next to him.

They were a random bunch of people. Usually members of the same group could be put into a certain category, but these simply didn't seem to belong together. To restrain such different personalities from clashing with another, their lord had to be exceptional. But Remus already knew that.

"It's fine Tom. I told you; it's personal. Actually, I was hoping to meet this new lord here. Is he around?"

"What could you possibly want with lord Voldemort on a _personal_ basis?"

Remus smiled. "Do you really want to know?"

Tom scratched his head. "No, better not, you're right of course. He should be upstairs in his room, the one where the rain doesn't leak in… Just be careful, he has a bit of a temper I heard. I think young Harry got in trouble the other night, I wouldn't want to be in the room if these two got together." Tom shuddered.

Interested, Remus leaned forward. He hadn't had the chance to speak with Harry about that night. Although he'd heard quite the stories from a friend who was also invited.

"Why'd you think so?"

Tom glanced around the room. "Just a feeling old friend. I could swear it's in their eyes. This lord Voldemort fellow? There's a fire in him that isn't healthy. And I'm afraid our dear Harry has the spark that could ignite said fire into a burning hell."

Tom shuddered again. "Just be careful 'kay?"

Remus nodded and headed for the stairs. Tom's description assured him even more that he was right. After years of trying, Sirius and Remus finally had found a lord that suited Harry. Whether it was a match made in heaven or hell was something only the future would show.

Old Tom had managed to rebuild about half of the rooms of the inn. But the roof was old and rotten, so that the rain found small cracks to get in almost every room. There was only one room that was completely intact. Tom called it 'the suite', even though it was a rather small room.

Remus knocked.

"Enter", came the muffled command from behind the door.

Remus took another deep breath and went inside.

The lord was alone, sitting comfortably in an armchair with a pile of books on the small table in front of him.

The first thing Remus noticed were his eyes.

'_I could swear it's in their eyes.'_

He had the same look as Harry. Maybe a bit more arrogant, fiercer and ambitious, but the same nonetheless. Intelligent, assessing, sharp, _awake_. Remus wondered if going through the chaos alone as child was what gave them the look.

Lord Voldemort seemed genuinely surprised to see him.

"And what brings phoenix' ambassador to me? Remus Lupin, was it?"

"Your information is remarkable, if you can identify me that fast."

Voldemort only smiled sweetly. Remus almost believed it was a true smile. Almost.

"Lord Dumbledore doesn't know I'm here" he began.

Voldemort raised an eyebrow but didn't interrupt. Remus decided to come straight to the point. Lord Voldemort didn't seem to have much patience for beating around the bush.

"There's something you should know about Harry."

Voldemort kept his face blank and faked ignorance. "Harry..?"

"...Potter. I'm sure you've met. Small, young, brilliant mind, covered in grease, always gets in trouble and blasts himself up on a daily basis?"

The lord chuckled. "Ah _that _Harry, yes. Caught him running around with one of my children..." Voldemort glanced mischievously up to Remus. "Among other things."

Remus noticed not without relief that lord Voldemort seemed to be in a good mood.

He sighed exasperated. "He's a handful isn't he?"

He knew he got on the lord's good side when Voldemort laughed out loud.

"You have no idea."

He gestured for him to sit and Remus complied.

"You're close to him then? Even though you are in phoenix?"

Remus narrowed his eyes. "We've been friends since before I joined group phoenix. There's nothing that could change my feelings."

"A man of loyalty, I see. Admirable but…it doesn't quite match with your current location does it?"

"Let that be my concern lord Voldemort. I believe it's in both our interest to see Harry safe and sound, that's why I'm here. I'll deal with my group later."

Voldemort leaned back and regarded him with an unreadable look.

"I can understand your feelings toward your friends Mr Lupin. But you are talking to the wrong man. I'm afraid Harry has made it quite clear that he has no intention to join me."

Lupin snorted. "And we both know he'll change his mind, even if we arrived for different reason to the same conclusion."

The lord tilted his head. "Oh? I'm intrigued, what is _your_ reason?"

"He blacked out." responded Remus and was rewarded with a confused look on the otherwise so smug face.

.

* * *

.

When Harry woke up he felt like shit. His head hurt, his heart was racing and his stomach seemed to be trying to eat itself. The hunger was overpowering and Harry moaned in pain.

So it had happened yet again. After all this months he had almost been sure he could just live his life peacefully and stay away from his blackouts.

The fact that he was lying comfortably in bed and not on the cold stone floor meant that one of his friends had found him. Since Sirius and Remus were the only ones that knew about his blackouts, it could have only been one of them. What ran through their heads when they had found him unconscious after all this time?

Despite his pain, Harry didn't waste any time and stood up. He grabbed as much food as he could carry and left his home, to visit Remus and Sirius and thank them for looking out for him once again.

The last thing Harry thought before storming out of the busted door was that it was all Riddle's fault.

.

* * *

.

"Pardon?" asked Voldemort, as if he hadn't heard right.

"He blacked out." repeated Remus. The lord just looked at him perplexed. Remus sighed.

"He has this…condition." he began a bit unsure. Harry would kill him for this.

"He seemed to be in perfect health two days ago."

"He's not sick. It's…difficult to explain. I have never seen or heard anything like it. Since I met Harry, he would eventually have these episodes where he would pass out for several hours or even several days. At first we thought he had amnesia or something alike. We had him examined but physically he is perfectly fit. It's his brain. You have met him, but I don't think he would show you what he can do on your first meeting. He is brilliant you know. It's not just a rumour. Actually the rumour doesn't even cut it. I know it doesn't seem so when you speak to him. He's downright awkward in most human interactions. He's not interested in anything social at all, and certainly not in politics. But I've seen him do things with his mind that I wouldn't have thought possible."

Voldemort looked at him oddly. "You do realise I'm most certainly not backing off after you praise him so much?"

"I don't want you to back off. God knows how long I've been trying to find someone who could handle him."

The lord grinned approvingly and nodded for Remus to continue.

"His ingenuity comes with a price. His mind can focus on a problem so completely that he forgets everything else. Everything. I've seen him once in that state, I didn't yet know it was the reason for his blackouts but it scared me nonetheless. It was as if he was in a trance. He blocked out everything else and was scribbling notes and calculations on everything he could find like a madman. But this intense focus isn't the real problem. Honestly I can't explain what the exact cause is either but…it's like his brain uses up all his energy. As if every ounce of stored sugar and fat is used to provide enough energy for his brain to go into overdrive. Even his body heat drops dangerously. And even when his whole body screams for sleep and food to restore his reserves, he doesn't even realise it and keeps on thinking about the problem. He only stops when he finds the solution…And by then his body is so worn out that he simply blacks out. "

Voldemort folded his hands under his chin and considered his words.

"Are we talking about problems concerning a mathematical formula or maybe a particular complex construction? Or do you mean problems in general, like a decision in life and everyday worries?"

"Both. If something catches his interest, his brain will start working faster and longer than humanly possible."

"So, to solve problems no one else could, his brain exhausts his whole body and he passes out for several hours. I can see it is quite an extraordinary condition and I can understand your general concern, but without wanting to be rude…it's not such a big problem isn't it? I mean, it's nothing food and sleep couldn't cure."

Remus vividly shook his head.

"No, you don't understand. He _can't_ stop thinking, no matter how long it will take. He doesn't pass out because he overworks himself like normal people might. He will stay focused until the second his problem is solved. He _has_ to find the solution before he collapses from exhaustion."

Voldemort frowned in thought.

"But at one point the body simply won't be able to sustain-…"

Realisation dawned on his face as he looked up into Remus' eyes.

"If he is confronted with a problem that can't be solved…If _I_ order him to invent something that simply isn't possible…If I ask for too much…"

"He'll die."

.

* * *

.

"Remus! Sirius! Anyone at home?"

Harry had arrived at his friend's home and was banging at their front door. He heard muffled footsteps and moments later, Sirius opened the door. His face lit up at the sight of Harry.

"Hey Harry! You-…look awful."

"Thanks."

"No seriously, you look like a ghost! Hurry, come in and sit down, it happened again didn't it?"

Sirius was already putting some food on a plate while Harry wobbled to a kitchen chair.

"I've already eaten Sirius" cringed Harry. He didn't like it when his friends had to give up precious food for him when he couldn't give them something in return.

"Yeah, as if that would ever be enough. Here you go."

He put the plate down in front of Harry who couldn't resist the urge to dig in.

"So…" Sirius began while watching him eat like a starved dog. "Why now? I mean, after all those quiet months..?"

"How should I know", grumbled Harry in between two mouth full.

"Aw come on! Something unusual must have-…Aha! Hey, what are your thoughts about that new lord?"

"He's crazy"

Sirius laughed. It was loud and warm. He laughed often and Harry liked it. When it wasn't used to make fun of him that is…

"You like him don't you? Remus was right after all! Come on- say you like him."

"Stop it!"

"Aw don't be such a tease, out with it I say!"

Unnerved, Harry rolled his eyes. "Better you tell me where Remus is. He must have found me, I want to thank him for getting me into bed."

"Hmm, I don't know why he would just leave you there… I haven't seen him since he left about an hour ago. I guess I could ask for him in the headquarters."

Harry stood up and wiped his mouth. "Thanks Sirius, I'll see if I run into him on the streets."

"Woah! Where do you think you're going? You have to lie down Harry! Hey! Listen to me you little-..! Harry!"

But Harry was already out of the door and winked at him over the shoulders.

With his stomach full and his strength slowly returning, Harry was feeling better every second. He didn't really had a goal as he walked down the streets, but he was looking out for phoenix members who might have seen Remus.

"Yo Harry!"

Stanley Shunpike waved at him from the other side of the street. He wasn't really the cleverest member of group phoenix, and Harry wondered if that's why Stanley didn't seem to know he should keep his distance from other groups' members. And non-members like Harry.

"Hi Stanley" smiled Harry "did you happen to meet Remus?"

"Lupin?" Stanley frowned in concentration. "Ah yeah I think so. He didn't really saw me though. He seemed to be deep in thoughts or something."

"Do you know where he went?"

"Nah, but he was walking down that road over there." He pointed to it.

Harry's stomach began to hurt again. This time not from hunger, but from worry. The only place worth visiting down that road was the inn. And the only reason why Remus would go to the inn in the middle of the day was…

"Riddle."

"Huh, what?" Stanley looked confused.

"Nothing. Thanks Stanley, have a nice day!"

Harry began to run. Dreadful scenes were playing in his head. If that bastard did _anything_ to his friend…He would personally go to Fudge and make sure Riddle would not live at the end of the week.

.

* * *

.

"That boy really is trouble" gritted Voldemort. He was standing in front of the window, his back to Remus who was still sitting in the armchair.

"How should I possibly know how far I can push him?"

"You'll know" Remus insisted "I can feel it. If you can't handle him then I don't know who will."

Lord Voldemort turned. "All that, however, doesn't explain why Harry would possibly want to join me. As far as I can see, it would be healthier for him to stay away from group politics and its many problems."

Remus smiled sadly. "I wouldn't be so sure about that milord. You see, Harry hasn't had a blackout for over half a year now."

"So…That's good right?"

"Not if you consume riddles like normal people eat food. There's a reason Harry has taken a liking to inventing new things; he has to occupy his mind or he'll get so bored, he wouldn't see any reason to live on. It puts his life in danger, yes, but he also needs it. Over the last few months he has distanced himself from everything. He lived like a rabbit in his hole. That's not living, it's simply existing."

He looked up at Voldemort. "He needs you. He needs someone who can put his hyperactive brain to use. And you've already done it. I don't know what is going on, but I know you are the reason why he had a new blackout. You are already occupying his mind."

The lord smirked and below his hooded eyes, Remus saw a fire getting bigger and bigger.

"You can leave him to me Mr Lupin. I assure you, I won't stop until I am all he can think of."

.

* * *

**A/N:** _Anyone else always thought Voldemort and Lupin would get along rather well? I dunno why, just always wondered how Tom Riddle would have turned out if he had Lupin as a teacher... Remus is just always so calm and wise but also kinda straightforward. I think they would have gotten along rather well (if Tom didn't split his soul and Lupin was older that is)._**  
**

_I'm running out of new ways to beg for reviews, but they are as much appreciated as always!_

_A response to **tum** who asked me whether this story is slash (I couldn't send you a message, I think you disabled the option): As stated at the very beginning, this story will contain slash (Tom/Harry). But like I also said it will still take quite some time for anything to happen. I can't really say when or what or how much will happen between them, because quite frankly I never thought that far ahead when I started this story. I have the basic concept and wanted it to be slash but other than that...I'll be surprised at what happens in between certain points of the story just as much as you are :)_


	7. Chapter 7

_**A/N:** So sorry for the long wait! I kind of got stuck in the middle...  
Thank you for reading and reviewing (and waiting)! :)  
_

_._

* * *

**Chapter 7**

Harry all but flew through the inn's door.

He had run all the way down the road – it just had to be a long one – and only now began to realise how out of shape he was.  
He turned to the person closest to him, who happened to be that crazy woman Bellatrix. Of course.

"Where is he?" he wheezed.

"Oh, look who's come back to me! Come and play with me dearie, I haven't had the chance to properly greet you last time" she cackled madly.

"Wher-… Oh forget it!"

Harry headed directly to the stairs. He didn't have the nerves to put up with Bellatrix right now. Not if he hadn't made sure Riddle wasn't harming Remus in any way.  
He sprinted up to the second floor and was already shouting before he burst through the door where he had talked with Riddle last time.

"You bastard better keep your hands off o-…err-"

He froze in the doorway. Remus and Riddle were sitting leisurely in the two armchairs, both with tea in their hands and in the middle of playing chess. After the hellish pictures of what the sadistic lord might be doing to his friend, the scene seemed downright bizarre.  
They both looked amused by Harry's forceful entrance. On the chessboard were still quite a few figures, indicating that they hadn't played for long. Harry couldn't help but notice that Remus was losing bitterly.

"Ah Mr Potter, so good of you to stop by! Care to join us?" taunted Riddle.

Harry shook himself out of his shock and closed the door slowly behind him. He warily kept his eyes on Riddle, though.

"In a game that is already lost? No thank you."

"I'm losing already?" smiled Remus lightly and scratched his head distraught.

"In three moves"

"Not if he moves that pawn" interrupted Riddle.

"I know him, he'll go with the tower" countered Harry.

"But then he could use his horse."

"By then your queen would be right there."

They stared at each other intently, an unspoken challenge between them.

Remus cleared his throat. "Erm, yeah…I really should get going. It was a pleasure meeting you lord Voldemort."

"Likewise."

They shook hands and Harry had the sinking feeling that he had just missed an important conversation.

"What were you doing here in the first place?" he asked his friend suspiciously.

"Politics Harry. You know, that thing you always found boring."

"You shouldn't have come here alone!"

Remus looked at him amused. "I was in good hands Harry."

Harry snorted doubtfully and saw Riddle raise an eyebrow. He began walking after Remus, when a hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"And where do you think you are going _Harry_?"

"Back home" he replied nonchalantly, without looking back at Riddle.

"Without telling me your fabulous plan? I don't think so."

Harry faked ignorance. "Hmm? Plan, what plan? You have to give me some time to think Riddle."

"Ah but you found a solution, did you not? After all…You are _alive_."

Harry spun around shocked. There was absolutely no way he could have known about his condition. That just couldn't be…could it?

"Remus?!" he shouted, still facing Riddle.

"Have fun!" came the muffled response from below.

Harry stood there shocked, looking at Riddle's smug face. Then his eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Excuse me for a second, I have to go kill my friend."

Riddle only grinned at him. "Unfortunately, I am rather fond of him."

Harry shot him his best death glare and tried to walk out again, but Voldemort was faster, he quickly locked the door and put the key in his trousers.

"Not before you tell me how to get out of this mess that _you_ made."

"I'm sorry, but I only tolerate your face once every 24 hours so I'll have that key now."

"The last time we saw each other was more than 24 hours ago, so your statement is invalid."

"We met just yesterday! Draco, you and a pile of bodies, remember?"

Riddle looked at him oddly.

"What?" hissed Harry.

"That was two days ago, not yesterday" explained Riddle slowly.

Damn, so he was out for a full day? Harry cursed silently. No wonder he had felt like shit.

"It's all your fault" he muttered accusingly.

"Maybe. But there was also this _genius_ who decided it was a good idea to fight with a dozen men against a whole group."

"Seems legit." shrugged Harry.

He let himself fall down in an armchair and tried to look comfortable while he felt the familiar nervousness return. Why was it so hard to have a normal conversation with this man?  
Riddle gracefully sat down opposite from him and sipped at his tea.

"So…" he began and stared at Harry.

"So" repeated Harry, purposely ignoring the demand to start talking.

"Your neck is almost healed" remarked Riddle and glanced down at the bluish mark on Harry's throat.

Harry gulped at the memory of Riddle's hands on his throat, squishing the air out of his body.

"Your sword…" he deflected hastily "why is it so thin?"

Red eyes studied him before apparently deciding to let it go. "It suits me better than a normal sword. The weight prevented me from using quick attacks."

"It looks as if I can break it in two with bare hands" Harry continued, intrigued by the unfamiliar design.

"The smith told me it was made from special material."

"What material?" Harry asked immediately.

Riddle seemed amused at his eagerness. "I didn't bother asking. It suits me, so I use it. I don't have to understand how it works as long as it works exactly like I want."

Harry groaned disgruntled. Then a wicked gleam entered his eyes. "What's the point in explaining my plan then? You don't want to understand it after all."

"I don't have to understand the tool I'm using, but I still need to know what exactly I'll be using. So you better open that pretty mouth of yours and start talking, or I will _make_ you talk."

Harry sighed. He knew he couldn't evade the topic much longer. Damn Remus for telling him! Now Riddle would always know when Harry had worked something out.

"It was ridiculous easy to be honest. I can't believe it took me two days to figure it out, I must be getting rusty."

"Rusty" deadpanned Riddle "you worked out a plan to defeat a well-known group with a small scouting party and you call that _rusty_? Well, well, well. Crossing the country was beneficial after all."

Oops, did he just gloat in front of Riddle? Harry was still reluctant to help lord Voldemort but he couldn't help feeling a bit giddy at the prospect of talking about the plan. He always liked talking about his ideas and inventions, but he could tell Sirius and Remus just let him talk without really listening. To explain something Riddle couldn't have thought of himself gave Harry a strange feeling of power.

"Will I be able to hear that rusty plan anytime soon or do you plan to spend the rest of the day in here?"

Harry had to stop himself from gaping. It was faint, but there was definitely anticipation in Riddle's voice. He tried to sound impatient, like a man with a lot to do might be, but it was definitely a sort of anticipation you had when reading a good book and couldn't wait to read the end. He _wanted_ to know. Seeing the ever graceful and cool man lose his composure was exhilarating. Harry wondered if he could hold off his explanation for just a bit longer and watch his composure slip a bit more-…

"Potter" growled Riddle warningly.

"Okay, okay! Well, basically I will use a mixture of Methyl-tert-butoxycarbonyl-prolinate and Phenylmagnesiumbro-…"

"POTTER!"

Riddle had jumped up and looked ready to kill someone – unfortunately there was only Harry in the room. Harry still vividly remembered the last time Riddle moved as fast as that and his flight instinct kicked in. Hastily he scrambled out of his chair and away from Riddle. He made a mental note that making Riddle lose his composure was _not_ a good idea.

"Alright, fine, I get it - _stay _where you are!"

They began circling around the two armchairs and the small table.

"Don't _ever_ test my patience, child" Riddle whispered lowly.

Harry noticed with wonder that his own body was trembling slightly. All his attention was focused on Riddle, if the man only flexed a muscle, he flinched like a frightened deer.

"Would you stop walking?" he asked slightly panicked as Riddle started to go faster around the chairs.

"How about you stop first?" dared Riddle, knowing full well that Harry wouldn't.

Harry knew they would start running every second now and he didn't have to be a genius to guess who would win that race. Slightly out of breath from the quick pace, he decided to divert Riddle's attention by continuing.

"I got the idea from your name actually."

"Riddle?" he asked suspiciously, not slowing his steps at all.

"No, Voldemort. Flight of Death. It got me thinking… We aren't able to see death, right? Only the result of it."

Riddle slowed down ever so slightly. "Go on."

"Well, so I thought about how to achieve death, without really fighting."

"I'm beginning to like where this is going. Continue."

"I came to the conclusion that it wasn't quite possible."

"Pott-.."

"No, no, wait! It isn't possible without fighting at all but then I cut myself and-…"

Riddle looked at him incredulously. "Are you even _trying _to make sense?"

"You don't understand, I painted it! Err, I mean, I lost the knife because it was invisible."

Riddle paused to consider this. "You want to make us invisible?"

An invisible Riddle was the last thing Harry wanted, but he found the prospect of dumping a bucket of stinking paint all over him rather pleasing.

"I looked up the rules for a group challenge. No group has to state how many members will participate in the fight, nor do they have to be assembled at any point in time. The rule is that all members who will participate have to be in the agreed fighting zone – there is no indication that all of them have to be visible. The two lords have to be present and signal the start of the fight, that's all."

"We make Fudge believe there is only the lord present" mused Riddle.

"Exactly! Give him some crap about not wanting the members to be killed or something."

"He'll be suspicious. Probably thinking we set up some traps."

"It is not allowed to build or change anything within the zone before the challenge. You can let him check the ground, there will be no traps. Everyone of Fudge's men will focus on killing the lord, because there is no other target on the field. All your men have to do is kill them silently while their focus is on the lord. When they finally start noticing their men are falling for no reason at all, it will already be too late."

Riddle smirked satisfied. "My, _Harry_, I didn't take you for the sneaking type."

Harry shot him a mischievous look. "I told you it wouldn't be considered a fair fight."

"Hmm…You do realise Fudge still believes you are the lord thus expecting _you_ to show up? And that a whole group will try to kill you while we take them out?"

Harry grimaced. "Yeah, that's a bit of a problem. I build a sort of shield that can encapsulate me completely and protect me from their physical attack, but it has two major disadvantages."

"Which would be?"

"The more force they use, the more energy it will take. The time the shield will hold is limited to a few minutes at best. If your group hasn't stopped the fight until then…"

"Let that be my problem. If they really can't see us, we won't need more than a minute. What's the second problem?"

Harry scratched his head embarrassed. He hated when one of his inventions wasn't without faults. "I couldn't build it to stop attacks without deflecting them. If they use bullets, which I'm sure they will, they will rebound and fly across the field with the same deadly speed they hit me."

Riddle seemed to contemplate this threat and began again to walk slowly towards Harry. Since he didn't have the murderous look on his face anymore, Harry resisted the urge to run away.

"Why can't you just build more of this shields for each of us?"

"Technically, I could. But I would need more time than the few days we have left. Some pieces of it are hard to make and the energy that has to be stored in it is impossible to generate on such short notice. Plus I will already be busy gathering enough mixture to make the whole invisible act work…"

He trailed off uncertainly as Riddle was once again invading his personal space. He refused to take a step back like a frightened child and tried to look unbothered while he inwardly cringed under Riddle's scrutinising stare.

"You know…I had my doubts at first but I'm actually beginning to believe that you are indeed the last piece I need to achieve my goals."

"Really? And what pray tell are your goals? Taking over whole Britain?" he joked.

"Oh no, _Harry_, not Britain" chuckled Riddle. He suddenly grabbed Harry's chin tightly and forced their faces nearer. Harry felt his cheeks become hot and his heartbeat sped up, while a cold shiver ran down his spine. He tried to make sense of all the signals his body was giving him but all the conflicted information was too confusing. Riddle's red eyes gleamed and he continued in a smooth whisper that simply took Harry's breath away.

"I'm talking about the _world_."

.

* * *

.

"Sirius, are you there? I'm home!"

Remus tiredly pulled of his shoes and sank into their couch in front of the fireplace. It was a very old furniture, with lots of moth holes and the springs creaked loudly with every move. A lot of their furniture was old and well used, but they both agreed it made the house more comfortable. It wasn't like they were going to find newer ones.

Sirius walked in from the kitchen. He looked relieved.

"Moony! Where were you? I searched everywhere for you!"

"Like I told you, I went to see Harry. I'm sorry I was gone longer than expected."

"I wouldn't have worried if Harry didn't come see me and ask where you are. Why did you leave him? And what were you doing all this time?"

Remus grinned sheepishly and thought about Harry's indignant cry when he left him with lord Voldemort.

"Just making sure he'd start living again" replied Remus cryptically.

Sirius cocked his head thoughtfully, but then decided to let it go and shrugged.

"Sirius do you know if, hmm… How should I say…Did Harry ever have, well, 'the talk'?"

Sirius jaw dropped. "We are talking about the same Harry here right? 21 years old, genius, reading scientific books like comics?"

"No…"

Sirius let out a relieved sight. "Oh thank God, I thought-…"

"I'm talking about the young man who went through his teenage years without ever meeting someone around his age."

"Remus Lupin! If you are even _considering_ to explain to _Harry potter_ how babies are made-… Please tell me a week beforehand so I can leave the country, because I'm not sure it will exist afterwards."

Remus laughed at his reaction. "I'm fully aware he knows the biology behind it."

Sirius exasperated threw his hands in the air. "That boy almost killed me with one of his inventions when I was pestering him about making some friends! I do not want to imagine his reaction when the word 'love' enters that discussion."

"Hmm, no, I don't think love is the right word for it…But try to imagine your teenage years without anyone of the same age group around you. No dirty jokes, no secret glances in the girl's locker rooms, no hidden magazines, nothing! I'm just not sure reading a scientific book about the different anatomy of men and women can compensate that. Everyone around him is at least ten years older; they know what to do. And the children are way too young that anyone would even think about that part of education. What if Harry doesn't realise sexual attraction even when it gets shoved right into his face? What if someone-…"

Remus trailed of worriedly when Sirius began cracking his knuckles, a dark look on his face.

"Okay, tell me which bastard we're talking about here. 'Cause if he's doing anything to my boy I'll, I'll-…"

Remus knew Sirius meant it quite literally and normally his threats were nothing to be taken lightly. But when he thought about Sirius confronting lord Voldemort, he couldn't help but picture a clumsy puppy growling pitiable at a giant snake.

He kept that thought to himself, even though Sirius still questioned him several days after his laughing fit.

.

* * *

.

There was definitely something wrong with him. Harry wondered if he was coming down with a fever. Whatever it was, Riddle still holding his chin was not helping. He needed to breathe some fresh air.

"Let go" he gritted out.

"Why?" came the amused reply.

Having no other choice, Harry took a step back and yanked his chin free. He poked at Riddle's chest accusingly.

"You are crazy. Completely insane. There is no way all humans in Britain can be controlled by one person, let alone around the whole globe.

Riddle solemnly straightened up. "I'll prove it's possible. I'll show you with Fudge."

"Fudge?! What does he have to do with anything? How about you show me with Dumbledore, or have you forgotten I'm practically waiting for him to kill me because some lunatic thought he had a plan?!"

Riddle seemed completely unconcerned. "He hasn't made any move yet. And I am certain he won't before he the outcome of this challenge is clear. I don't think he knows you are the reason behind it. Don't worry _Harry_, I'll protect you." His crooked smile was taunting Harry.

He took a deep breath and forced himself not to react. Calmly he extended his hand and turned the palm up waiting.

"Key" he ordered curtly.

Riddle furrowed his brow mockingly. "You don't actually think I let you walk out of here? Do I need to remind you that Fudge still thinks you are lord Voldemort? There is no way I'll let you walk around town without supervision."

Harry almost threw up at the thought of staying at the inn for several days.

"I will most certainly not stay here with your bunch of madmen! Give me that key, now."

The lord only smirked at Harry's effort to control his anger.

"Make me" he dared.

Harry saw red.

He reached into his pocket and found the byproduct of his last blackout.  
He had never told his friends, but whenever he blacked out he couldn't remember a big part of what he did beforehand. He remembered how he had come up with the plan for the challenge but he knew that he didn't collapse after that.  
Remus had the theory that he blacked out as soon as he found the solution to whatever problem Harry was currently occupied with. But after waking up, Harry realised that each time he had an episode, he hadn't just found one particular solution, he also invented several new things without ever knowing when he had the ideas for them.  
In a way it was like sleepwalking; at these times his unconsciousness seemed to take the upper hand. The byproducts often were related to other things that somehow had affected him in the days before the blackouts.  
And this time his days were filled with Riddle.

He pushed the small button.

Harry normally did not enjoy seeing people in pain, but he had to confess that seeing Riddle fall to the floor with his face a mask of pain, was oddly satisfying.

"Don't even try to make me feel guilty about this, you asked for it" he said while bending down and take the key.

Riddle's body was trembling and his breath came in pained short pants. Harry grudgingly had to respect the man for not crying out. He might not remember how he had built it, but after one – very short – self test, he knew what the purpose of the device was.  
Pain. It stimulated the brain to experience pure pain, even though there was no cause for it. Harry shuddered at the thought of his own brain _inventing_ something as cruel as that. What did that say about his subconsciousness?

He turned off the device. Riddle didn't move or say anything. He only lay there, breathing unevenly. Harry hoped he hadn't gone too far. He didn't know what a man with an ego like Riddle's would do after being beaten – maybe for the first time.

He decided not to hang around to find out and quickly opened the door. When he got down the stairs he was relieved to see that no members of Voldemort's group were at the tables. Not even Tom was behind the bar.

Just before he could leave the inn, he heard something that was so unexpected and frightening that his breath hitched. A clear, cold laugh came from upstairs.

Harry ran all the way to his shop.

* * *

It had gotten dark and chilly again. Harry cursed at the sight of his half wrecked shop. The cold would enter unhindered tonight.

He walked the last bit to calm down from his sprint. Only when he had crossed his frontyard did he see a dark figure waiting in the ruins of his shop. Warily he took some more steps but they were still several meters apart. The man turned and a tiny ray of moonlight illuminated his features.

_Black robes. Dark eyes. Pale. Greasy black hair. Crooked nose._

The world exploded in his head.  
Hot.  
Everything was so hot.  
Red.  
All he could see was red gleaming light everywhere.

The last thing he heard before he passed out was a women screaming in pain.

.

* * *

_._

_**A/N:** I know it's a green light in canon, but that really wouldn't have made any sense. And yes; the device Harry used against Riddle is a kind of cruciatus-curse-in-hightech.  
_

_If I let Harry pass out all the time, does that make me a bad person? ^_^ At least this time it wasn't anyone's fault...Not really._

_Believe me, if you mix Methyl-tert-butoxycarbonyl-prolinate and Phenylmagnesiumbromide, it will NOT make you invisible...It stinks :P  
_

_Just to clarify: Harry does know about sex and what it means when someone has for example an erection, he just doesn't know how all the other - more subtle - signs of attraction feel like or how to interpret the signs of someone showing interest in him. He simply 'skipped' the natural hormone-crazy phase of his life because there was no one around that naturally would have caught his interest. Plus he does have a slightly asexual edge._

_Well..._I_ know what happens next xD. I write it down for you so... Please tell me what you think :)_

_Until next time! (hopefully a bit sooner)_


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